Journey of the Ajax
by CreepyReaper
Summary: The last of the Colonials search for safety among the Thirteenth Tribe.
1. Chapter 1

Battlestar _Ajax_ in orbit over Picon, 3 days before Fall of Twelve Colonies

**Disclaimer: I own nothing in this story and make no money off it**

Commander Gregory King walked through the corridors of his ship towards the CIC.

At the door were the two marines who always stood guard at the doors of the most important room in the ship. Without saying a word they moved apart to opposite sides of the doorway and saluted.

As he waved them off them door opened. Inside he saw the two-story CIC. His bridge crew was working diligently at their stations as always.

Colonel Andrew Siler announced, "Commander on Deck!"

"At ease everyone," Commander King replied. "Colonel Siler, what have I missed? The ship still running?" he asked with a smile.

Colonel Siler was one of the youngest Executive Officers in the Fleet. At only 34 he had only served on four ships before the _Ajax_ but all of those had been warships.

In fact, the Colonel had graduated flight school at only 20 and was qualified to fly everything from old atmospheric shuttles to Mark VII Vipers and the latest Raptor versions.

Col Siler nodded. "Yes sir. The CAP rotation went off without a hitch, Picon Fleet HQ sent out another memo about illegal trafficking between Tauron and Caprica, and we had to dispatch two Raptors to escort a civilian ship back to Picon after their EM suite got fried."

"Just another day in space, huh?" he said.

It was then that Lieutenant James Riden, King's Senior Officer of the Watch and Tactical Officer, walked up to him and handed him a communique.

"Commander, this just arrived from Fleet Headquarters. It's addressed directly to you."

Taking the note, King read out loud.

"From the desk of Rear Admiral Marcus Reed.

_The Battlestar _Ajax, _under the command of Commander Gregory King, is to proceed to Armistice Line for one week patrol duty. Escort ships _Athena_ and _Delphi _will accompany as part of Battlestar Group 81. _

_Ship to relieve of duty: Battlestar _Kobol_. Proceed immediately upon rendezvous with escorts."_

Nodding, Commander King wadded the paper up and threw it away. "Lieutenant Riden, upload the navigational data and spin up the FTL drives. Plot a sublight coarse to the _Athena _and _Delphi _and confirm their receipt of same message."

The young Lieutenant nodded and began scurrying around the bridge performing and directing the various tasks required for space rendezvous and FTL jumps.

On the newer _Mercury_-class Battlestars the CIC was a small, efficient, networked room that allow the Tactical Officer to perform his duties without leaving his station.

However, the _Ajax _was a member of the _Olympia _class Battlestars. The _Olympia_s were the series of 37 Battlestars constructed between the end of the Cylon War and the Colonial Rearmament twenty years afterward. The _Ajax _CIC was extremely similar to _Columbia _Battlestars.

The _Olympia_s were essentially advanced versions of the _Columbia_ class Battlestars that had led the Colonies through the Cylon War.

Their armament consisted of 36 Anti-ship gun turrets, 50% more than the _Colombia_s. But more spread out with twelve guns on the central lateral surface, six more on the underside of the bow, and 12 on the dorsal surface in the same places as on _Columbia_s, and three on the sides of both Flight Pods.

There were also the same number of Point Defense Turrets as the _Columbia _class to simplify and speed up the design process.

The hulking behemoth began accelerating towards the smaller escort vessels. The escorts were much more lightly armed than the mighty Battlestars.

Barely measuring 650 meters the escorts looked almost comedic compared to the massive metal monsters. The escorts were crewed by only five hundred seventy crew and marines and were commanded by Escort Captains.

The ships also carried eight, scaled down Anti-ship guns on their dorsal surface. They also carried a mere seventy Point Defense Turrets.

To offset their relatively weak artillery armament, the ships had six conventional missile tubes, much like the _Valkyrie_ class Battlestars only much fewer in number.

In minutes the three ships were in formation and, thanks to the expertise of their navigators, moved in unison as they broke orbit.

"Commander, the Captains of both escorts are reporting FTL status green. They're prepared to jump."

Nodding, King responded. "Jump the ships."

Colonel Siler began the countdown. "Jump in ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One."

"Jump." With that, all three ships disappeared in brilliant flashes of light, and at almost the exact same moment they reappeared at the Armistice Line and began broadcasting their Colonial IFFs to prevent the _Kobol_ from blasting them out of the sky.

"Commander, _Kobol _Actual is on the line."

Picking up the phone, King said, "This is _Ajax_ Actual, go ahead."

The voice on the other side of the phone was feminine but full of authority.

"_Ajax _Actual, this is _Kobol _Actual, welcome to nowhere. My ships are in desperate need of water. I'm afraid we had a major explosion in both our tanks due to an asteroid storm so I'm afraid I'll have to skip ceremonies and jump immediately."

"Confirm, _Kobol,_ enjoy the Civilization," he said in a joking manner. He heard a chuckle on the other end before, "And enjoy Armistice. So long."

With that the Battlestar and its escorts winked off the DRADIS screen. And then they were alone.

"Well Colonel, launch the CAP, prep our standby Raptors, and set Condition Three throughout all ships."

_Authors Note: Well, tell me what you guys think. This is a crossover but its going to take a while for the other series to come in. Review and let me know if this story is worth persuing_


	2. Chapter 2

Battlestar _Ajax _on patrol near Armistice Line, 1 hour before Fall of Twelve Colonies

Disclaimer: I make no money off this and own neither Battlestar Galactica or the Halo series

Commander King was sitting in the chair in his personal quarter reading over logistics reports when over the loudspeaker Col Siler's voice announced, "Commander King, please report to the CIC immediately."

Laying the reports and his coffee cup down and began the short walk to the CIC. As he walked through the halls he saw several crewmen scurrying through the halls quickly.

The marines at the door of the CIC looked tense as they parted. Their hands were gripping their weapons tightly.

Upon entering the CIC he could tell something was amiss. His officers were frantically running between their stations, trading tactical information. "Col Siler, what's going on?" He asked as he approached the Tactical display table. Colonel Siler's face was showing signs of worry and concern.

"Sir, we've lost contact with our patrol nearest Armistice Station, the Stations transponder has stopped transmitting, and the shuttle that transported the Armistice Officer there is overdue for a check-in. In addition to that, the sensor drones placed along the line aren't transmitting, and we have no idea if anything has crossed the line."

"Frak me, what about our other Viper patrol?" King asked in an exasperated tone.

"We still have contact with them, and I ordered them to pull in close to our ships." Colonel Siler replied.

"Get the Captains of both escorts on the line and set Condition Two throughout the Fleet. Prepare the reserve Viper squadrons. If we're about to be attacked I want to be prepared." he ordered.

It took several moments of rapid input into the communications computer before his Communications Officer nodded. "Captains Dunn and Lawrence are on line one. Picking up the tactical phone from the table, Commander King said, "Captains, what is the situation on your ships?"

A gruff voice belonging to Captain Jeremy Dunn of the _Athena _replied, "Commander, all my Vipers are fueled, armed, and ready to go, my ship is at Condition Two, and I have my Raptors laying additional sensor drones at the outskirts of DRADIS range."

The other voice bore the heavy Aerilon accent of Captain Henry Lawrence of the _Delphi_. "My Vipers are also prepared, but both my Raptors are undergoing repair after a collision. My ship is at Condition Two."

"Captains, spool up your FTL drives. We're about to jump to Armistice Station. I'm going to leave three of my Raptors here to monitor the line."

"Commander, the board is green. We're ready to jump." King simply nodded his head and motioned for them to proceed. Col Siler read off the countdown until it reached zero. "Jump." As soon as he said it the three ships disappeared in brilliant flashes of light.

When they reappeared at Armistice Station, Lt. Riden immediately became confused. The DRADIS screen was empty where the station was supposed to be. The only thing left was a debris field.

"Lieutenant Riden, where the hell is the Station?" Siler asked. "Give me a moment Colonel," he said as he ran from terminal to terminal, rechecking his jump calculations. After several tense moments, he shook his head. "I'm not sure sir. The coordinates are right. We jumped to where the Station is supposed to be."

"Launch the CAP and order them to proceed to where the Station's exact position is supposed to be. Have them do a visual search," King ordered.

* * *

Captain Matthew Fairbanks, callsign 'Turtle_' _and _Ajax_'s CAG, braced himself as his Viper Mk VII was hurled out of the Battlestar's launch tube. As soon as his fighter was clear of the metal tunnel, he pointed its nose towards Armistice Station's position and waited for the other pilots to join him.

Quickly, the other 13 Vipers and the Raptor of Red Squadron joined him.

"Alright boys and girls, we're just gonna head over to Armistice and have a look. Bean, if we run into trouble I want you to hit the gas back to _Ajax,_" he said over the wireless.

"Roger CAG. I didn't intend to dogfight in a Raptor," Lt. Alicia 'Bean' Kyla said. Her ECO, Lt. Steven 'Worm' Henderson began searching the immediate area. After several moments he shook his head.

"CAG, Worm, I'm not picking up anything Captain, just a bunch of space debris."

"Keep on it Worm, we're supposed to be right on top of it." At that moment Worm's DRADIS beeped. He stared closely at the console for several moments before a look of shock came over his face.

"Frak me. CAG, I think I found Armistice Station. ETA to visual range, fifteen seconds." The other pilots were confused.

The DRADIS on Vipers were nowhere near as sophisticated as those on Raptors. Space alone wouldn't allow that. However, considering the size and apparent proximity of a the Station, their basic systems should have been reporting _something_.

Then it became clear as the burned, bent, and broken hull of the Armistice Shuttle drifted into view. There were scorch marks from an explosion all along the hull. Dents caused by debris littered its surface. The airlock of the Station was still locked in its place, the end not attached was jagged metal.

"My gods, what the hell happened?" a pilot asked. Shocked, horrified looks came across the faces of the Colonial pilots. Small pieces of debris bounced off their canopies and fighters as they stared into the mass of pieces.

The wireless began to crackle, breaking the silence._"Turtle, this is _Ajax _Actual, report. Have you made visual contact with the Station?" _Without hesitation, Captain Fairbanks hit his transmitter. "_Ajax _Actual, Turtle. We found the Station. It's gone sir."

_ "What the hell do you mean its gone?"_ Commander King asked. "Armistice Station has been destroyed."

* * *

***Disregarding this this story is exactly 1000 words. I know this story was gone for a short time but that's because one of my friends got confused and deleted it there and republished it under 'Crossover: Battlestar Galactica & Halo" **

***This story doesn't have a whole lot of action but the next chapter definitely will. It should also be a few thousand words. Please review. You guys give me great ideas. **


	3. Chapter 3

Battlestar _Ajax_

The CIC was almost dead silent. The Colonial officers all looked at each other and the empty DRADIS screen, all thinking the same thing but unwilling to say it out loud.

The Cylons had returned.

Every Colonial had been fearing this moment for forty years. And if Armistice Station was destroyed, that meant the Cylons were already behind the Line. They could be in the Colonies themselves by now.

Sensing the urgency of the situation, Commander King yelled," Captain, get your pilots back here right now at maximum burn. I'm sending the Raptor back to the Colonies to send an encrypted message."

Turning to Lt. Riden he said, "Encrypt and send the following and address it to Picon Fleet Headquarters. Mark it: 'Maximum Urgency-Case Zulu Theta Nine Constellation.

Message begins: Hen House gone. Farmer in Danger. Verification Code Hotel Mike Delta Delta Two. Send it to the Raptor and tell it to jump back to Picon and transmit."

Riden nodded his head. "Yes sir. Encryption complete." Riden typed jump coordinates into the computer and transferred them to the Raptor. In a flash the small ship was gone, back to the Twelve Colonies of Man.

"Put me online with the Escort Captains," the Commander ordered. His Communications nodded his head after a moment. Commander King picked up the tactical phone and heard the Escort Captains' phones acknowledge their activation with quiet clicks.

"Gentlemen, I think the Cylons may have slipped past us. There is a significant possibility that the Cylons have reached the Twelve Colonies by now. They're also likely responsible for the DRADIS beacons going quiet and my missing patrol."

The two officers agreed and they immediately began planning what to do next.

"We should jump back immediately. If the Cylons are at the Colonies they'll need every available ship," _Athena_'s Captain said. "We can't just abandon our patrol duty. If this was simply an accident and there are no Cylons involved, we'll be court-martialled."

It was at that moment their DRADIS systems reported a contact. When it registered as the Raptor sent out to relay the message Commander King handed the phone to Colonel Siler.

"Why the hell are they back so early? It hasn't even been ten minutes." It was then the wireless speakers came to life.

"Ajax, _Bean, I am declaring an emergency. I am losing engine power and have sustained heavy damage. My ECO is wounded and we're leaking atmosphere_." King picked up the tactical phone dedicated to communicating with pilots.

"Bean this is _Ajax _Actual, what the frak happened?" he asked. "_I don't know how sir, but Picon is crawling with Cylons. As soon as I jumped in my DRADIS went crazy. It wasn't five minutes before they noticed me. My Radiological alarm was screaming at me and we saw flashes on the surface so I think Picon was nuked."_

Everyone in the CIC gasped. Picon was the center of Colonial military power. A fourth of the Fleet's munitions were on or around Picon. Fleet Headquarters was there and if it was nuked, it likely meant that the Colonies' highest ranked officers were dead.

It also meant his family was likely dead. His mother, father, two brothers and sister and her wife lived in Queenstown, and if attacked, Queenstown, the planet's capital city, would be the first city destroyed.

Many others were also thinking about their loved ones. Those who didn't have family on Picon were thinking about the other Colonies. That meant they weren't doing their jobs, and he couldn't allow that, especially not now.

He turned to Siler and motioned for the phone. When handed it he said, "Captains, the Colonies are under attack. Make your announcements, set Condition One, and prepare to jump. King out." He then hung up and turned to his Tactical Officer.

"Put me on ship-wide and send a ship out to retrieve the damaged Raptor." When Lt Riden nodded he continued. "Attention, this is the Commander. At this moment a Cylon attack against our home worlds is underway. We do not know the size, composition, or specific targets as of now, but we have an unconfirmed report that Picon has been nuked. We are preparing to jump back immediately."

Commander King looked at his bridge crew befor continuing.

"I know you are all concerned about your families, you friends, your loved ones, but now is not the time to think of that. That will come later. Now all we must concern ourselves with now is getting this ship into the fight, and that's exactly what we will do."

At that he hung up the phone and turned to his officers, simply watching them. This was the first time they were doing the jobs they had trained to do for years during an actual war. For many this was the first time in their lives that a war had even occurred.

And they were handling it wonderfully. They weren't panicking, they weren't running around the CIC screaming, and they weren't yelling about their families. They were sharing navigational information, transferring orders, and directing spacecraft as gracefully as any civilian air port controller.

After several minutes of fervent effort the ships were ready. The officers reported the completion of their tasks and Lt Riden reported FTL board status green. They were ready to jump and when the damaged Raptor was towed aboard he ordered the jump to begin.

Colonel Siler began the countdown and when the counter reached zero, the three vessels flashed in magnificent shows of light. They reappeared at almost the same moment in the Twelve Colonies in high orbit around Picon.

"Lt I want a report of all military units in the solar system. Colonel Siler try to find out who's in command of the fleet and launch the CAP. I want to know where the rest of the fleet is." Col Siler nodded and proceeded to the communications terminal to begin the search for the Colonial Admiralty.

* * *

Captain George Finch, CAG of the Escort _Athena_ was hurled out of his launch tube and took up a position to wait for the rest of _Athena_'s Viper squadron to join him for the CAP.

Colonel Siler, XO of the Battlestar _Ajax_ had picked the _Athena_'s squadron to provide CAP to the Battlestar Group. Each Escort carried a single Viper Squadron consisting of 14 Vipers and 2 Raptors and Captain Finch commanded _Athena_'s.

As the rest of the fighters and their guiding Raptor joined him, he began the first of the long, circular orbits around the three massive ships. Over the wireless he began to hear traffic from his nervous pilots.

They had heard the announcement from Escort Captain Lawrence and were ready to kick Cylon ass, but that didn't change the fact they had never actually fought a real enemy.

"Does anyone know what Cylon fighters look like?" someone asked. A female pilot was the first to answer. "In old war movies they look kind of like flying wings." "Yeah, well those pics are forty years old." "So? Our Vipers still resemble the old MK IIs, don't they?"

Someone scoffed. "Maybe on the outside. I take pity on anyone who had to fly those old pieces of junk. My calculator had ten times the computing power of those scrapheaps."

"Cut the chatter, you're not here to gossip," he said through his wireless transmitter. The other pilots immediately shut up and began searching for targets.

After several minutes of nothing, their DRADIS systems buzzed and his wireless activated. "CAG, Snake, I've got ten contacts. They're not broadcasting Colonial IFF's and Commander King has ordered us to intercept. ETA; 1 minute," said the ECO of their guiding Raptor.

"How the frak did they get so close?" he asked as he banked his Viper in the direction of the presumed Cylon craft. "I don't know sir, there's so much jamming going on its hard to discern anything."

"Gods damn it. _Ajax_, CAG, we are moving to intercept unconfirmed contact." His wireless crackled for a moment before he heard a reply.

_"Confirmed, proceed to target. Weapons hold until hostile confirmed." _After receiving the order he pushed his ship's engines to their safe limit and headed towards the DRADIS point.

After a few seconds, he ordered the Raptor to break off formation and head back to the Battlegroup. Roughly thirty seconds after that, the enemy was finally in sight. They looked very strange.

The ships, significantly less than ten, looked like crescent moons with large bulges on the inside middle of them. From the distance they were at, the Colonial pilots couldn't see the metal coverings raise to reveal swiveling red eyes.

"_Ajax_, CAG, target is in sight. They don't look like anything I've ever seen. They're definitely not Colonial. Requesting permission to engage," he said into his helmet. _"CAG, _Ajax_, request granted. Weapons Free."_

"Alright everyone," he said, speaking to his pilots, "there's only three of them but that doesn't mean we can afford to get cocky. Stick with your wingmen and don't get sloppy. You've done this a thousand times with other Colonial pilots and in simulators. You can do it now."

It was at that exact moment his electronics completely shut down. His DRADIS went dark, his navigation system shut down, he lost control of his Reaction Control System, and his Viper began to tumble out of control.

"I've lost power, Sideswipe, take command. Sideswipe, do you read? Trash, can you hear me?" he said into his wireless transmitter. When he looked out of his canopy, a look of horror came over his face.

All the Vipers in his formation were tumbling about, bumping into each other and drifting out of place. However, their inertia was still carrying them towards the Cylons.

"Oh my gods. Snake, do you read? _Ajax_, this is CAG, please respond." Nothing. Not even the crackle of voiceless wireless. That meant his communications package was disabled. And that was very, very bad. He couldn't even declare an emergency or request rescue Raptors.

When he looked back at the incoming enemy fighters, he became overcame with the fear only experienced by those who know they're about to die and know there's absolutely nothing they can do.

The three unusual ships flew through the emptiness of space at the defenseless Colonial pilots. As the horrified humans watched them, the Cylons fired a volley of missiles, one for each of the Colonial craft.

The white streaks became connecting lines between the enemy fighters until the Vipers were destroyed by explosions. Debris flew in all directions as the humans were killed by their children. They joined most of the human race in the underworld as the Raiders flew through the debris field that had once been the proud fighter wing of the Escort _Athena._

* * *

Lt Craig 'Gearshift' Phillips, pilot of the Raptor assigned from the _Ajax _to guide _Athena_'s Viper patrol screamed in frustration as the fourteen Colonial Vipers disappeared off his DRADIS screen.

His ECO, Lt. Penelope 'Snake' Cruise, Gearshift's ECO, was shouting in futility as well she watched them disappear on her more advanced DRADIS console. Before she had finished shouting, Gearshift had already thrown the Raptor into full afterburner in what they both knew was going to be a futile attempt to escape their pursuers.

"What the frak happened there? They went straight in and didn't maneuver at all!" Snake yelled from behind him. He just shook his head and tried to coax every iota of speed he could from the ship's engines.

* * *

The CIC of _Ajax _came to a standstill for a single moment as the officers watched the fourteen Vipers disappear from DRADIS. However, knowing they could do nothing, they continued about their duties. They couldn't afford to stop. Too much was at stake.

Colonel Siler, on the opposite side of the tactical display from Commander King, said, "What the frak? How the hell did that happen? They weren't nuggets. They should have known better." He was clearly flabbergasted.

The Vipers had gone straight at the Cylons without bothering to move a muscle. It was as if the pilots had all suddenly decided to take a nap and had put their ships on autopilot. That left three enemy fighter rapidly closing on the Raptor that had been guiding the CAP and heading toward the Battlegroup.

King said nothing, simply picking up the tactical phone. "This is the Commander, launch all Alert Fighters. All pilots not currently ready to launch are to proceed to their ships immediately."

He switched phones to speak with the ship's battery commanders. "All Gun Captains are to immediately prepare to commence launching flak. Fire only on my order." Returning to the tactical display he spoke to his XO.

"Colonel, where are Colonial forces?" Siler shook his head which had become overcome with worry lines. "Apparently, we got here a bit late. I was only able to contact five Battlestars, three of which have since been destroyed.

The other two were engaging enemy forces above Virgon. We've lost contact but can't confirm their destruction. There's a lot of civilian chatter, mostly civilians begging for help and crying. Picon's atmosphere is setting off our radiological alarm so we know it was nuked.

We have wireless reports of the other eleven colonies being nuked. We were able to spot flashes on Caprica, Aquaria, Gemenon, and Tauron. We can't see the other colonies but there's nothing besides automated transmissions from them."

Commander King was silent. He was staring at the map of the solar system on the wall. "What are your orders Commander?" Silence. "Commander?" Silence.

King simply stared at the Cyrannus System, imagining the twenty billion people it had contained a day before.

Before Col Siler could ask a third time, Lt Riden shouted, "Radiological alarm! The Cylon fighters are carrying nukes." King's eyes immediately snapped to the DRADIS screen.

* * *

The dozens of Vipers _Ajax _and _Delphi _had launched were rocketing through the emptiness of space towards the three Cylon fighters. Among them was Captain Fairbanks, _Ajax_'s CAG and therefore the CAG of the entire Battlestar Group.

In his helmet's wireless, Captain Fairbanks heard, "_All Vipers, we have confirmed the presence of nukes aboard Cylon fighters. Weapons free. Repeat, Weapons free." _

"Alright boys and girls, you heard the lady. The toasters have nukes and we need to scrap them. Now. Wing-men pair up and scatter. If they launch their nukes at us I don't want to lose an entire squadron. ETA to intercept, thirty seconds."

The Colonial fighters grouped into pairs and then put space between each duo.

At the same time, the Cylons' swiveling red eyes locked in the center of their visors and attempted to broadcast the virus that had crippled the Colonies.

Nothing happened. The Raiders experienced their equivalent of confusion; that being the process of checking their orders, their responses, their current position, the range of the virus, and confirming they had sent the virus.

Confirming that, they began searching for a solution that ended in the total destruction of the enemy ships with minimal loss on their end. A single solution entered all three of their minds simultaneously.

One of the fighters dropped slightly behind the other two. The two lead planes closed as close as they dared and all three maxed out their engines as the Colonials closed. They also began to broadcast a signal to their compatriots in case they failed.

The ships all closed at extremely rapid rates. When the Raiders were in range of their guns, the Vipers opened fire.

Dozens of bullet streaks impacted the Cylons who exploded in two large explosions. The Colonial fighter pilots woo-ed and celebrated their supposed victory.

However, that was when the third Raider flew through the debris of its two brethren. The pilots, unsuspecting and unaware, were unable to intercept it before it was among them.

Unable to fire on without risking destroying their fellow pilots, they were forced to watch as the enemy passed through them. It was at that moment there was nothing between possibly the last of the human race, and a Cylon fighter armed with nuclear weapons.

* * *

"Frak me!" Captain Fairbanks yelled as he whirled his Viper around in a 180 degree turn and thrust his plane into full burn.

He saw the other pilots doing likewise as they attempted to destroy the nuclear-armed plane.

"_Ajax_, Turtle, we have destroyed two of the Raiders but we have one en route to your location. Do not, repeat, do not recommend launching any more Vipers. The sky's already too crowded."

_"Confirm_,_ Turtle, will not launch Vipers. Be advised flak field may be launched. Try not to get shredded."_

"Gods damn it, pilots, stop firing unless you have a good firing solution." 'Fraking nuggets' he thought. Two kills and they start having a frakking party.

This area of space was chaos. Too many Vipers, too little space, and too much overcompensating by pilots. Adding all this meant that the ships would not be able to intercept the Raider in time.

* * *

"_Athena _I want you to move to intercept the Cylon Raider. You are to fire your complement of ship-to-ship missiles. Failing that you are to use any means necessary to destroy that fighter, is that understood?" Commander King said into the tactical phone.

Over the tactical he heard an acknowledgment and watched on DRADIS as the escort moved to put itself between the Battlestar and the Raider.

He looked at his Tactical Officer who told him, "Time to Intercept, forty seconds."

All eyes not busy with other duties were on the screen. The red dot grew closer and closer as the Cylon Raider approached the Escort.

Then, all of a sudden, _Athena _died. All power, even emergency shut off completely. It began to drift aimlessly in space as everyone else watched in horror.

"Captain Dunn, do you read?" Silence. "Captain Dunn, respond." Silence. Looking to Lt. Riden, he asked, "What the frak just happened?"

Riden just shook his head as he worked furiously at the various control terminals. "I don't know sir, I'm trying to find that out. All transmissions from the _Athena _has stopped. Their thrusters have stopped all activity and their engines have shut down. It's looking like the entire ship lost power."

"How is that possible?" Col Siler asked. King shook his head. "What is the status of the-" before he was able to finish his sentence, he was interrupted by Lt. Riden.

"Raider is launching missiles! Trajectories have four of them at us, two at _Athena_ and two at _Delphi._"

"Order battery commanders to throw up a flak field and initiate Point Defense Turrets! Brace for impact!"

The weapons of the Battlestar came to life, the massive batteries hurling fragmentation projectiles at the weapons of death. The Point Defense Turrets also threw their weight into the attempt, thousands of rounds of ammunition streaking towards the missiles.

And most were intercepted. Three of the missiles destined for the metal behemoth exploded before they reached their targets, as did both the weapons heading for the _Delphi_, but there were no weapons protecting the _Athena_.

Two thermonuclear weapons slammed into the ship. The armor of the ship burned away in the twin small suns. The ship lurched away from the impacts as the brilliant flash of light acted like a floodlight in the surrounding space.

After a few seconds, the vessel exploded as its magazines were destroyed and ordinance blew the ship apart.

A nuke also impacted the armor of the _Ajax _just behind the 'alligator head'. The crew of the ship was rocked violently as the heat burned a hole in the ship.

However, the armor belt of the _Ajax _was built to withstand the awesome force of nuclear weapons.

After the radiation subsided, the CIC crew worked to put the room back into order.

"Status report," King ordered. From the damage control terminal, Colonel Siler reported, "We have breaches in sections 17 through 25 and fires in sections 13 to 16 and 26 to 29."

"If we don't get those fires out soon they'll spread to the magazine and destroy the ship," said Commander King. "Take command of the Damage Control teams and get those fires out. Now."

Colonel Siler nodded and moved to the DC console. King picked up a tactical phone from the command table and directed himself to the Captain of the _Delphi_.

"Captain, what is the status of your ship?" he asked.

"It's pretty bad over here, but primary weapons, life support, and our FTL is all still online. We've taken a lot of casualties and may need to transfer some to your medical bay. Ours is just too small," replied Captain Lawrence.

"Confirmed, begin sending over shuttles and Raptors with your wounded." When Lt. Riden walked up to him with a communique and motioned it was urgent, King said, "Wait one Captain."

Riden handed him the paper and said, "Sir, there are civilian ships nearby sending out emergency distress beacons. They're under attack by at least one Cylon Baseship and are requesting assistance."

"How far away?" King asked. "Three hours at sublight." King shook his head.

"They'll be dead by then. Can you plot an FTL jump to their location?" Riden nodded.

"Yes sir, give me five minutes." As he rushed off to perform the necessary calculations, King yelled after him, "You've got three!"

"Captain Lawrence, I'm afraid your wounded will have to wait. We're about to jump to rescue some civilian ships. Get your crew in order and prepare for a Combat Jump. King out." With that he hung up the phone and returned to his own ship.

He walked over to his Landing Signal Officer, Major Mark Burr, and said, "Major, bring our birds home and get them back in the launch tubes now. We're doing a combat jump in three."

The dark skinned man nodded and returned to directing the Vipers. "All Vipers, all Vipers, come on home at high throttle. Upon landing prepare for immediate rearmament and refueling for another combat launch. We're jumping in three."

After what seemed like an eternity all the Vipers were back aboard _Ajax_ and the FTL calculations were complete. Colonel Siler began the countdown and the ship jumped.

Right into a battlefield. The DRADIS system was screaming with contacts, most of whom weren't broadcasting Colonial IFF's.

"Commander we have five confirmed Cylon Baseships. Range; Five thousand kilometers. Seven civilians ships present. Range; Three thousand kilometers."

"All ahead full, put us between the civilians and the Baseships. Have _Delphi _hug them and intercept any ordinance we miss and begin launching missiles. All ships launch Vipers!"

The two Colonial warships moved as fast as their engines would allow to put themselves between the Cylons and the defenseless civilian vessels.

They also launched their Vipers, 84 in total, to intercept the machines' missiles and Raiders.

Colonel Siler returned to the command console and reported the fires were out, at the expense of several of the DC teams who had been vented into space to protect the ship.

"Colonel Siler, have all Battery commanders switch to salvo fire and target the nearest Baseship. Pass the word for Captain Lawrence to target the next closest with his missiles.

Point Defense Guns are to throw up an immediate flak field. Give priority to intercepting civilian-bound weapons. And for the gods sake see if those ships have FTL capability. We're not going to be able to hold the Cylons off for long."

Nodding, both men proceeded to the tasks battle necessitated of them.

The guns of the _Ajax _were tossing shells across space at the nearest Baseship, whose armor was almost nonexistent. The _Delphi _had also reached its destination near the civilian fleet and was adding its weight to the barrage.

White streaks began to emanate from the small escort as it fired its powerful ship-to-ship missiles.

All the while the hundreds of Raiders and Vipers quarreled in the space between the two fleets. The battle was a maelstrom of death and explosions as human fought Cylon.

The five Baseships, previously expecting easy kills, were instead taking heavy casualties in the form of Raiders and damage.

The mighty artillery of the Colonial Battlestar was destroying their compatriot who had the bad luck of being closest to the beast.

Dozens of missile streaks soared toward the metal monstrosity but many were intercepted by Vipers. Those that weren't met their deaths in the defense field around she ship.

"Commander King, I have a report from the civilians. Six of the ships have FTLs. The seventh, the, uh, the _Reunion_ is a luxury liner. Its got over 1800 people on board."

"Have every shuttle in the fleet and our Raptors start ferrying the passengers of that ship to the other civilian ships. Have the other civilian ships get as close as they can to it to speed up the process and spool up their FTL drives."

The _Ajax _also began to rock occasionally as several missiles began getting through the flak field.

The first Baseship, having been the first targeted, finally succumbed to the Battlestar's impressive armament. It exploded in a massive fireball as its magazines were breached.

One of the arms of the once-great ship was propelled into the center spiral of another which in turn exploded in another great explosion.

The Colonial Battlestar and Escort both switch their fire to two other Baseships.

However, the firepower of the Cylons was not purely for show. The armor of the Battlestar was beginning to show signs of battle. Almost a dozen conventional missiles had hit the hull of the warship.

"Colonel, what is the status of the _Reunion _transfer?" he King asked.

Colonel Siler put the phone he was holding to his chest and said, "Still almost 700 people on the ship."

"Frak it. Have the ships that can and the _Delphi _jump to our emergency jump point. If we don't arrive in one hour Captain Lawrence is in command of all the ships."

Siler nodded and moved to relay the communication.

King looked at the DRADIS screen and and gripped the command table tightly as missiles struck the ship and the Baseships were hit by his ship's weapons.

He had trained for almost half his life for this moment and now the only thing he could think of was how to get out of it while losing as little as possible.

It was then that five more Baseships jumped in to join the remaining three. The sudden replenishment of their ranks prompted the original three to move toward _Ajax _in an attempt to get close enough to prevent the Point Defense Guns from intercepting their missiles.

"Lieutenant Riden, I want you to load nuclear weapons into launch tubes one through four. Remove launch safeties and arm them." Riden nodded and began the process of turning the heavy metal casings with radioactive insides into nuclear weapons.

"Civilian ships and Escort have jumped away," Siler told King.

Without moving, King yelled to his LSO. "Bring in all the Vipers, now! Urgent combat landings. Contingency; Storm Cloud."

Major Burr urgently ordered every remaining Viper to return to _Ajax _at full burn, and for good reason.

The Storm Cloud Contingency was used only in emergencies when Battlestars were in danger of being overrun and nuclear weapons were about to be used in the vicinity of Colonial units.

It had only been used three times in the Cylon War due to the extreme friendly casualties it tended to cause.

There was no hesitation among the Colonial pilots. One of the first lessons they were taught was when to get the frak away from targets who were about to explode.

The LSO began to count off as the Vipers landed. When the number reached sixty and the distance between the Battlestar and Baseships was only eight hundred kilometers, King steeled himself for the words he needed to say.

"Launch the nukes. Detonate at four hundred kilometers." Riden didn't reply. He only turned his launch key.

Four dull thumps reverberated through the hull as the missiles launched. Before the enemy Raiders could intercept them, the weapons detonated.

One after another, small suns appeared and consumed Raiders and the slowest of the Vipers, as well as the fastest of the Baseships.

Heat washed over the ships who were packed in a relatively small space.

Radiation scrambled the DRADIS of all the ships in the area. The surviving seven Base ships launched new Raiders to replace the ones that had just been destroyed.

When they moved in a position to see the Colonial ships, there was nothing, not even debris.

The Colonials were gone.

* * *

Alright guys this chapter took me almost two solid weeks to perfect. I'd like to thank Hobobillybob for his help as my beta. Review and tell me what you think of it.


	4. Chapter 4

Battlestar _Ajax_,

36 hours after Fall of Twelve Colonies

Commander King strode back into the CIC after catching six hours of rack-time.

"Colonel, how's the ship been in my absence?" he asked.

"The _Reunion _has exited our starboard flight pod and there wasn't any damage like Major Burr was worried about on the upper surface of the pod."

King nodded in acknowledgment. "Good. Continue."

"Well, the passengers of the _Reunion _have been relocated to the other ships but we're going to have to find them a more permanent place. Most of of them are living in cargo holds."

"They're going to have to tough it out for now, but send officers over to the passenger liners to see if they can scrape up any more space in the cabins. What else?" replied King.

Looking down at a piece of note paper, the XO continued.

"The crew we sent over to _Reunion _have pulled most of its salvageable parts but said that most of it was useless junk. The ship apparently didn't have the best maintenance chief and pretty much everything was more rust than steel. They said it was maybe a month of space duty or one atmospheric landing before it disintegrated."

King shook his head in disappointment. "Gods damn it. I was hoping we'd get something useful from it. What about the civilian ships? They give passenger counts yet?"

Siler flipped a page in his notebook and nodded.

"7617 plus 1854 from the _Reunion _puts our total count at 9471 men, women, and children. Enough food and water aboard those ships to keep the civilians alive for two months when you take into account their _Reunion _passengers."

King shook his head. "Two months is not a lot of time in space."

"Agreed, but one of the civilian ships, the _Spectrum_, is an agricultural ship. Right now its growing an assortment of roses and trees, but, do you remember a few months ago when that Aerilon company started selling cloned seeds?"

King nodded, vaguely remembering reading it somewhere.

"Yeah, well apparently, that drove normal seed prices way down for a few weeks."

King interrupted him. "Colonel this is all fascinating," he said sarcastically, "but how does it relate to our food supplies?"

"Well, the super cruise ship, called the _Harmony_, the biggest civilian ship, its operating company bought up all the cheep seed it could for a garden it lets its passengers operate. The thing is apparently pretty big. Anyway, they bought up a three year supply and froze it. They've got corn, tomato, and wheat seeds. A one year supply for the fleet including us."

Commander King smiled at that, happy they wouldn't have to worry about food shortages and rationing for almost a year. "What about our stores? How are we on food, water, and ammunition?"

"Well, our water tanks are all topped off. However, food is going to be slightly larger problem. One of our food storage bays was affected by the nuke and a lot had to be jettisoned into space so we lost ever a third of our food supplies.

King became worried. His XO had put off the ammunition report. "And our munitions stores?"

"We used a lot of ordinance in the battle and we had to transfer a lot of our Point Defense Gun ammunition to _Athena _on the third day of patrol after their armories suffered a corrosive chemical spill and those are obviously gone. Plus, someone fouled up at Supply and we never received a full resupply on ammunition."

"How bad?" asked the Commander.

"Bad. Eight nukes and enough ammunition for twenty minutes of fighting at most."

"Gods, twenty minutes?"

"And even that's stretching it."

Commander King looked down in frustration. Because of some desk-jockey frak-up,his ship was in danger of running out of ammunition in the middle of their next firefight.

"What about our ammunition manufacturing facilities?" Siler shook his head.

"We just don't have the raw materials."

"Have you checked for isolated Colonial armories?" The XO nodded and grabbed a scrap of paper off the tactical display.

"Its called Armag Station. It was originally supposed to support ships traveling between mining colonies in the asteroid belts of nearby systems and Scorpia. Last report had enough ammunition inside to fill our armories as well as the _Delphi_'s and more."

"I know there's a catch." There was always a catch. Experience had taught him that.

"Thee Cylon Basestars reported near it before reports stopped. They may have moved off or-"

"Or they may have destroyed it." finished King. Siler nodded.

"Alright, we'll send a Raptor to perform a recon. I don't want to jump in blind. Set it up. I'm going down to sickbay to visit our and _Delphi_'s wounded."

Siler saluted and began preparations for the Raptor sortie.

Leaving the CIC, Commander King walked down the long hallways of his ship. As he strode through he looked at his crew. Many moving faster than they had before, moving with a purpose.

Though his crew hadn't been much in the way of slacking before the attack, they had lacked motivation. They simply went about their duties because it meant a paycheck.

Now they had a reason to move the slightest bit faster, to jog when they could walk. To double check when they weren't sure. To volunteer for the occasional detail.

However, they were also demoralized. They moved because they were scared and angry. Almost all had lost a friend, a loved one, or a family member.

It was his hope he'd be able to use that in a way to prevent his crew from making reckless decisions.

Before he even reached the medical bay he began to smell death. He could smell death in the air. When he rounded the final corner and entered the final hallway leading to the Medical Bay, he was greeted by a horrifying sight.

There were gurneys filled with wounded Colonials. Blood covered the floor and orderlies were running about frantically.

Commander King didn't say anything. He simply walked among them, being constantly pushed and shoved out of the way. The interior of the medical bay was even worse. Apparently there wasn't enough room in the dedicated Operating Rooms so surgeries were being performed with little more than plastic sheets around them.

He had seen countless men die in battle. In the Cylon War, he had been a Viper pilot and served aboard the Battlestar _Athena_, one of the original twelve Battlestars and the one that had represented Picon.

During that time, he had seen things that usually only resided in horror movies. During one of the many boardings of _Athena_, he had seen a Centurion who had run out of ammunition, rip a man's arms off his body. It had then used the arms to beat him and a fellow soldier to death before it had been destroyed.

Such acts of violence had hardened him and instilled a feeling of hate towards the Cylons. At that moment, the experiences of the Cylon War were the only things preventing him from vomiting.

He stood still for a moment to compose himself before moving on. He entered the Recovery Wing of the medical bay and found the person he was looking for.

Doctor Richard Stern, Chief Medical Officer of _Ajax_, rushed by Commander King until he grabbed his arm.

"Major, what the hell is going on in here? Why are there patients is the hallways?"

The normally strong figure of the tall, dark-skinned Gemonese man looked haggard and tired. His eyes were bloodshot and bags had formed under his eyes.

"Commander, they're in the halls because we don't have enough room in here for them! I have nine doctors, thirty nurses, and over six hundred patients. I'm running out of pain medication, gauze, antibacterials, and everything else."

"I'm sorry but half the civilian ships don't have medical bays! What do you want me to do, leave them to die on their ships?" he asked.

The tired Doctor sighed and covered his eyes with his hands. When he pulled them away there was blood on his forehead. Dr. Stern then looked King dead in the eye.

"That's not what I'm saying." Stern leaned in to whisper into the Commander's ear. "What I'm saying is we can't handle another instance like this. We're gonna hove to scrape the civilian ships for med supplies if you want to keep this room anything but a morgue."

"Speaking of which, where are you storing the dead?" he asked.

"Storage Bay Six." With that the Doctor quickly left to answer a young nurse's plea for help.

It was a short walk to Storage Bay Six. Inside were at least 200 bodies draped in Colonial flags. There were three Marines inside taking down information from the deceased.

He walked over to the only desk in the cavernous room where a Marine sat, pen in hand copying the information onto official logs.

"What's the count?" he asked. Apparently the Marine hadn't noticed him and immediately came to attention and saluted, in the process knocking over his metal chair. The disturbance caused the other two two snap salutes as well.

"As you were." The other two marines continued their grim work an the first man relaxed.

"What's the count?" King asked somberly. The black-clad marine righted his chair and sat back down.

"Right now we have 481 and counting. Major Stern told us to expect at up to 100 more."

King nodded somberly. "Carry on." he said to the Marine. Before he walked out, he looked back once more at the long lines of flags. Bowing his head, he walked out of the cavernous chamber.

He walked slowly back to the CIC without saying a word. As he entered he walked to the tactical display in the center of the room.

"Colonel Siler, I want you to contact the Captains of the other ships, including Captain Lawrence, and have them come aboard. When they arrive send them to the Pilot Ready Room."

"Yes sir. The Captains of several of the ships have been asking for just that."

King walked out of the CIC and headed to his personal quarters, leaving the ship in the capable hands of Colonel Siler.

When he entered his room, he immediately shed his tunic and tossed it aside. He grabbed a bottle of ambrosia and a glass and sat down at his desk. He poured himself a drink and reclined, the old chair creaking as he did so.

After downing his first glass and pouring himself another he stared at the two photos on his desk. The first was of his family during a hiking trip they had taken several years prior in the Picon wilderness.

The photo had been taken when they were standing on the top of a cliff overlooking a beautiful valley covered with trees with a pristine blue river running through the center. His mother, father, and brother were standing while him and his sister were kneeling in front of them.

The other was of him and his lifelong friend Brian Harris. They had grown up together and when the time came, they both entered the Fleet together. They passed flight school together and, in a one-in-a-million coincidence, they were posted to the same Escort as their first assignment.

However, that was long ago, and everyone else in those photos, with the exception of himself, was dead. For almost an hour, King just stared at the photos, downing another two drinks in the process.

Finally, the telephone on the wall beside his desk rang and he picked it up as he sat his drink down.

"Commander, the civilian Captains are aboard and waiting for you in the Ready Room," said Lieutenant Riden.

"Alright, thank you lieutenant. Tell them I'll be with them in a moment."

"Yes sir," replied the young officer. King heard him hang up and did likewise. Sighing, the Commander rose and put his blue tunic back on. He exited his dark room and headed towards the Ready Room.

As he walked through the halls he felt the alcohol's effect on his body. He forced himself to walk straight without swaying.

When he entered the Ready Room, a large room with enough seating for two squadrons at a time, he saw the front of the room held bickering civilians in all manner of dress.

Captain Fairbanks, his CAG, was attempting to keep them civil and was actually holding two men apart. The men actually looked like they were about to come to blows.

"Gentlemen." he said in a calm voice. Immediately all eyes snapped to him, and he could swear he saw relief in Captain Fairbanks' face. Almost as soon as he made his presence known the civilians approached him.

They also began shouting all sorts of things. Considering there were only seven men and women among them, it was an impressive noise.

The aged Commander held up his hands and waited for them to calm.

"Now, if you're done, perhaps we can get down to business?" he propositioned. The civilians slowly sat down in the front seats and he moved behind the podium at the front of the room and Captain Fairbanks moved beside him.

"Now, I'm sure you all have questions and requests and I'd like to hear them. But before that, let there be no doubt. We are at war, and the civilian government is gone. Therefore, I am officially declaring martial law."

As he said that, the civilians began to whisper among themselves. Several shook their heads.

"Having said that," he said, holding up his hand, "I don't intend to rule every aspect of your lives. Your ships are still your ships and I'm not going to appoint some of my men and women to Captain them instead of you."

This seemed to put them at ease and he decided to continue. "My Executive Officer has been collecting requests and manifests, but I'd like to hear from you directly. First, would you begin, Mrs?" he said, pointing to a short, dark haired Asian women on his far right.

"Sharon Williams, Captain of the Colonial Mover _Lightning_." King nodded, remembering the ship.

"Ah yes, you were carrying furniture and paper to Canceron, right?" The young woman nodded.

"Yes sir. We also had a load of refrigeration units. I would like to draw attention to the fact that my fuel reserves are dangerously low," she said, shooting one of the other Captains a murderous glance.

"Well, if I remember correctly, there is a Tylium transport in the fleet." He looked around inquisitively at the other civilians and one rather pudgy, pale man stood. He wore a cheap suit and was sitting at least a seat away from the closest Captain.

"Yes, that's my ship, the _Titan_. And I'm afraid I'm not authorized to release any of that Tylium."

"And you are?"

"Harry Reed."

"Mr. Reed, there's absolutely no reason you need to keep that much Tylium locked up in storage bays while these ships die." Before he had even finished Reed was shaking his head.

"I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do. The Tylium doesn't belong to me, it belongs to Tylium Mobile. I can't give away what's not mine."

"Mr. Reed, Tylium Mobile no longer exists."

"Even if that's true, I still cannot release a single ounce of Tylium." Clearly this man was unwilling to give an inch.

"Mr. Reed, if you cannot release the Tylium, then I'm afraid I will have to commandeer it. You have six hours to begin fueling the other ships before Marines will be sent to recover it." Commander King was in no mood to play around.

The short man sat down with a huff, but said nothing further.

Before he could continue the meeting, the phone on the wall of the Ready Room rang. Captain Fairbanks moved to answer it and after a moment, said, "It's for you Commander."

Picking up the phone, the Commander said, "King here." On the other side was Colonel Siler's voice which sounded slightly shaken.

"Commander, I need to talk to you in person. Right now. Its urgent."

"Alright I'm on my way." Turning to the curious faces of the others in the room, he said, "I'm afraid I will have to hand this briefing off to Captain Fairbanks. I'm needed elsewhere."

King rushed to the CIC and when he entered he saw Lieutenant Riden, Colonel Siler, and a pilot in her flight suit looking over pictures on the Tactical display.

"What's so urgent it warranted me leaving the civilian Captains?" The three Colonials looked at him with concern and worry on their faces.

King looked down at the pictures and instantly realized they were from one of the reconnaissance flights they had been running over the various Colonies.

The pictures were close-ups of a large group of buildings surrounded by a fence. The buildings themselves were long, steel structures and were organized in nine long rows surrounding a circular courtyard in the center of the compound. The buildings each had one end at the center and one end near the edge of camp.

"What am I looking at here?" he asked. The pilot spoke up.

"Sir, this was taken on Picon's Northern Hemisphere near the equator. I managed to get some extremely high resolution photos. They show a large concentration of Centurions in this camp." This confused him.

"Why are the Cylons operating a camp on the surface?" They already had Basestars to launch any number of fighters or deploy of Centurions, why did they need a ground base?"

Then Colonel Siler spoke. "That's not the reason we needed you here." The Colonel then handed him a series of photos taken at three different times during the day. The first showed a large concentration of dots that didn't shine like the Centurions.

The second showed a line of these dots heading toward a large trench. The last photo showed the line coming back. It was then what he realized he was looking at. He picked up the second photo and looked really closely.

He realized the dots weren't just digging a trench. They were digging graves. He looked in horror to his XO who nodded grimly.

"Greg, its a gods-damned concentration camp."

* * *

Okay guys so please tell me how you liked it. Review, they help motivate me to write.


	5. Chapter 5

Embarkation Room,

Earth

* * *

Major Logan Tanner entered the Gate room at the head of his twelve man column. The Stargate was already dialing and an armored MAPL sat on the ramp. He walked to the base of the ramp and turned around to look at the eleven men under his command who had formed two lines in front of the wall opposite the gate.

"Alright ladies, you know the drill. MALP goes through first, then Team One, then Team Two. Team One secures the gate and radios for Team Two. You've done this before. Remember your training, and try not to get killed."

At that he donned his helmet and charged the handle of his Hybrid Combat Rifle. The other members of his ART, or Assault and Rescue Team, did likewise with their strange-looking rifles.

The Hybrid Combat Rifle, or HCR, was basically what happened when you put a Tau'ri bull-pup rifle and a mini-staff weapon in the same weapons package. It was based on the Israeli Tavor and looked as if it was carrying and under-slung grenade launcher.

Finally the seventh chevron locked and the Stargate activated. As soon as the unstable vortex subsided the MALP moved through. After a few seconds the primary Gate Technician gave them a thumbs-up to proceed.

Major Tanner sprinted up the gate with five of his soldiers in tow. They entered the event horizon and exited thousands of light-years away without noticing any time-lapse.

They immediately took cover behind the MALP which had deployed its long, thin Trinium sheets out ten feet on either side of itself which were intended to provide incoming teams with cover.

The infantrymen looked in every direction for danger and, seeing none, quickly fanned out to the trees surrounding the Gate.

"Bloodhound this is Bird Dog, you are clear to come through. Repeat, clear through, over." the Major said into his radio.

"Roger Bird Dog. Bloodhound coming in." replied the accented voice of his Second-in-Command, Captain Joseph Biram.

A few moments after that, another half-dozen heavily armed men came sprinting out of the gate and slid to a stop behind the Trinium sheets.

"Hunter, this is Bird Dog. Bloodhound has arrived safely. We are proceeding with search of surrounding area, over."

"Roger, Bird Dog. Good luck, Hunter out." With that, the Stargate deactivated and they were alone.

"Captain, I want you and Team Two to stay here and secure the Gate. Set up our back-up plan and pray we don't need it." The tan-skinned Israeli soldier nodded and began issuing orders to his half of the team.

Meanwhile, Team One had congregated and was waiting for orders from Major Tanner.

"Alright, last known position of Sierra-Gulf One puts them fifteen hundred meters north of this position. We're moving now. Team Two is staying here to secure the gate. Everybody ready?"

All the soldiers nodded their armored heads. "Good. Let's go." At that, he began walking into the trees, his five men following.

The six proceeded relatively slowly, as they had reason to suspect there were hostile forced somewhere nearby. It took them an hour and a half to move the one and a half kilometers cautiously, but they finally arrived at the top of a hill SG-1 was supposed to have been near when contact was lost.

The sight they saw at the bottom of the hill was something they had rarely seen. A village, or at least what used to be a village, lay in smoking ruin.

It appeared to be a semi-industrial world, like a hundred other Milky Way and Pegasus planets. Brick and concrete buildings, paved streets. The only difference was, it looked like it had been bombed.

The structures still standing were surrounded by rubble and bodies could be seen everywhere. The Tau'ri soldiers slowly and cautiously moved down the hill, their HCRs at the ready. Sergeant Ken Phelps, Team One's equivalent of a medic, examined one of the bodies.

It was the body of a young man, maybe twenty at most. His torso was riddled with large-caliber bullet holes. It was a gruesome sight. If all present hadn't served tours of duty in Pegasus, they would have puked right there.

"What the hell happened here?" asked on of the men. Sergeant Phelps shook his head.

"I don't know, it looks like they were strafed. This is aircraft-caliber, but the trajectory places its origin low, close to the ground. Its definitely from projectile weaponry, so that rules out the Jaffa."

It was at that moment the six Tau'ri heard rocks being knocked up the street. Immediately, they raised their weapons. Major Tanner motioned for them to get to cover.

Less than ten seconds after the last one was hidden, several people in nice clothing stepped into view. They appeared to be having a tense conversation.

"Bird Dog Three, requesting orders." A British voice said over the radio.

"Do not, repeat do not engage. Let's see if we can find out what happened here. If forced to engage, Zats only. I want them alive." he replied.

The small crowd was coming closer, examining the ruins. They could almost be heard. Weapons could now be seen on their thighs.

"Can anyone make out what they're saying?" Asked the Major. A chorus of negatives was his only reply.

"Goddamn it. Bird Dog Two, we are going to approach. We are making contact. If any threatening move is made permission to engage is granted. Remember, Zats and nonlethal gunshots only."

Major Tanner and Corporal James Brown began slowly approaching and stopped in an alley just up the street. Slowly Tanner walked into their view, Corporal Brown following soon after.

"We are Tau'ri soldiers, please do not be afraid." He said. The crowd looked at him in bewilderment for a moment before trying to pull their weapons.

"No, no, NO!" yelled Major Tanner as he sprinted for cover. At the same time four blue streaks of light impacted the bodies of the newcomers, followed by three more.

Major Tanner looked around the corner, weapon at the ready. The people were lying on the ground. He motioned for Corporal Brown and two more soldiers to follow him. They ran to the pile of bodies and began putting naquadah fiber-lined plastic handcuffs on them.

The last two soldiers helped them carry the prisoners into a nearby concrete two-story building. They sat them down in the corner of the bottom story.

"Bloodhound, Bird Dog, we've got prisoners. We're gonna need help transporting them to the Gate. Radio for reinforcement to secure the Gate and haul your ass in here. We are in the fifteenth two-story building up the main street."

"Roger Bird Dog." Major Tanner could already hear his 2IC dialing the gate.

"Alright men, we have at least ninety minutes to ourselves. Bird Dogs Three through Six, form a perimeter. Bird Dog Two, we are going to guard the prisoners. Move."

A chorus of 'Yes sirs' followed and the men were moving. Four of them moved outside to watch for movement. Major Tanner and Corporal Brown moved to the opposite side of the room from the prisoners and aimed their HCRs.

For a long time this was all the life in this formerly busy city. Eventually the prisoners awoke and began yelling until Corporal Brown activated his staff weapon attachment. He didn't fire, but the mere sight of the attachment's small head opening with orange lightning running between the pieces was enough to quiet them down.

For almost an hour it was completely silent. However, the silence was interrupted by gunfire outside.

"Report! Who's shooting?" Major Tanner asked into his radio.

"Major, we have at least a dozen hostiles inbound to our location. They opened fire as soon as they spotted us. Bird Dog Five is hit. We're pulling back to the building, over," replied a soldier. He could hear shouting fire over the radio.

After about a minute two of his troops carrying a third between them. Following them was a fourth firing at unseen targets out the door. Major Tanner ran to the wounded man and saw Sergeant Phelps already working on him.

The man who had been wounded was a Sergeant named William Taylor, a former SAS operator. He had several indentations in his advanced Ballistic Vest and was bleeding severely from both legs.

"How bad is it?" Asked Corporal Brown. Sergeant Phelps shook his head.

"Very bad. His left femoral artery is hit, I don't know how bad. I need to stop the bleeding fast." He was already working furiously and the wounded man's pant legs had been cut away. Blood had started to spread across the floor.

Bullets could be heard impacting the walls of the concrete building and Corporal Brown had now moved to assist the soldier guarding the door.

"Bird Dogs Three and Four, move to the second story and set up your sniping equipment. I want to know who this is. Whoever it is, you see them, you shoot." ordered Major Tanner.

Bird Dog Three and Four, his sniper and spotter respectively, ran up the stairs to the second floor. They were already removing the M82 Sniper Rifle from its carrying bag.

"Sir, it looked like the Jaffa." said Bird Dog Six.

"What? Those are projectiles, and the Jaffa consider projectiles below them." Bird Dog Six shook his head without looking away from his sight. He fired a burst and then retreated to cover beside the door.

"I don't know sir, they were bright and silver. The only thing I can think of like it would be Jaffa armor." As if on queue, a string of bullets impacted the door frame, throwing dust into Bird Dog Six's face.

"Bloodhound, Bird Dog. We are under attack, one wounded. How far out are you?" Major Tanner asked into his radio.

"Roger Bird Dog, we are pinned down about half a click away. We are trying to get around them but we are heavily outnumbered. I have requested additional reinforcements from the SGC and SG-9 is passing it along now. They also have the gate secure," replied Captain Biram. Gunfire and staff blasts could be heard in the background.

"Roger, Bloodhound. Good luck, out." Major Tanner removed his hand from his radio and moved to a window and began firing at targets he could barely see. They were stuck.

_

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__Okay guys you have been wanting the Stargate series to come in and here it is. There will be more. Review and tell me what you think. _


	6. Chapter 6

Abandoned City,

Thracia

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**Disclaimer; In case you guys were wondering, I still don't own Stargate or Battlestar Galactica and still don't make any money off this.**

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Bullets slammed into the concrete above Major Tanner's head as another of the enemy machines attempted to kill him. The Major ducked and unleashed a pair of staff blasts at the approximate origin of the projectiles.

A loud boom from above him signaled his sniper team had found another target. That was at least ten in the last two minutes.

"Bloodhound, Bird Dog. Situation is critical. We are running low on ammunition. Where are you!" yelled Major Tanner.

"Bird Dog we have broken through opposition and are en route. Give us ten minutes." replied his 2IC.

"Good, what is the status of our reinforcements?" he asked.

"Negative, SGC has denied our request. Gate is under fire. They're not going to put more troops at risk. We're on our own."

"Goddamn it!" he yelled. "Ammo count!"

"Running low!" shouted Bird Dog Two.

"Low!" shouted Bird Dog Four from upstairs.

"Low!" shouted his sniper. Sergeant Phelps was too busy keeping Bird Dog Five alive so his ammunition had already been distributed.

"Conserve your ammo, make every last round count!" Major Tanner ordered. At this rate, his men had maybe five minutes of ammunition left, and that was assuming the enemy kept up their tactic of skirmishing.

"GET DOWN!" shouted Corporal Brown from the door. Without waiting to finish his sentence the young Brit was already leaping out of the doorway. Missing him by a hair, a rocket flew through the open doorway and slammed into the far wall.

The world became a haze as the shock-wave and shrapnel washed over the four men and the seven prisoners on the bottom floor. Major Tanner looked around dizzily, not quite comprehending his surroundings.

At some point Sergeant Phelps came to kneel over him.

"-an you hear me? Major! Can you hear me?" Tanner shook his head to clear it, and slowly nodded.

"Yeah... yeah, yes... I can, I can hear you. How, how's everybody else?" he asked with a slight slur.

"I don't know, I need you to cover the door while I check them. Can you do that?" the Sergeant asked.

Tanner nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. Move on to the others." The Sergeant nodded and moved to check Bird Dog Two's vitals. Major Tanner tried to stand but a sharp pain in his abdomen caused him to decide against it.

Instead he crawled over to the doorway and saw that literally dozens of machines were advancing.

"Oh, shit." Major Tanner opened up with his rifle. He managed to shoot three of the advancing machines before their retaliatory gunfire caused him to roll to cover. He primed a grenade and tossed it around the corner and heard it detonate, as well as metal hitting metal.

The Major rolled back out and fired his staff weapon. The orange blasts of energy soared through the air and landed on the chest plating of another two machines.

"You can't stop them. They're coming for us, and you." said the balding gray-haired man in the corner. Without looking away from the door, Major Tanner upholstered his Zat'nik'tel and shot the man.

More loud booms from upstairs signaled his sniper was still alive. Red Dog Four came running down the stairs to assist Major Tanner.

"Major, we have at least three dozen hostiles coming from the front and another six dozen about a hundred yards out." As he said this, he leaned out and unleashed a burst of armor-piercing bullets.

"So, we're screwed."

"Seven ways to Sunday, sir." More bullet impacts against the inside walls.

Suddenly, an accented Israeli voice could be heard.

"Six coming in!" Inside of three seconds six pairs of booted feet had charged inside and taken cover in the empty room.

"Captain Biram, your voice may be the sweetest thing I've ever heard." said the Major to his notoriously coarse-voiced 2IC. "How much ammunition do your men have?"

The Captain shook his head. "Four mags between us, and maybe thirty staff blasts, tops."

"See any back-ways we could use to get out?" Asked Major Teller. Grim looks and shaken heads were his only reply.

"We were hoping you had one." said Bloodhound Eight.

"No luck. Its solid concrete in every other direction. Apparently this planet never heard of fire exits." said Sergeant Jackson, Bird Dog Four. Interrupting their conversation was another, longer burst of machine gun fire coming through the door and single now-smashed window.

The soldiers ducked close to the floor and, when the fire subsided somewhat, rose to return fire. Staff blasts and bullets flew out of the building like rats out of a burning subway tunnel.

The mass of ominously-slow walking machines were now getting disturbingly close.

"Grenade!" shouted Bloodhound Seven as he tossed two fragmentation grenades. The soldiers pressed themselves to the concrete as shrapnel flew over their heads.

"Sergeant Carson, Mike Thirty Two!" shouted Captain Biram as peered over the edge.

"Yes sir!" Bloodhound Nine immediately slung his HCR around his shoulder and grabbed his M32 Grenade Launcher. The M32 is essentially a revolver, but its the size of a carbine and instead of using small lead projectiles it used six 40mm grenades.

The soldier loaded the soda-can sized explosives into each barrel and pushed himself up to see out of the window. He emptied the weapon in seconds and ducked back down.

The high explosive rounds detonated in the midst of the enemy machines. Fragments were thrown in every direction as the shiny drones dropped when hot metal ripped through their bodies.

The six gaping holes in the enemy formation were quickly filled. The machines were now within fifty yards. To make matters worse, Lieutenant George Yule, Bird Dog Three and the team's sniper, stopped firing.

"That's it, .50's out!" he shouted from the second story. "And they're bringing up more reserves. We have at least sixty more inbound!"

Barely a minute after Lieutenant Yule announced it, several dozen more machines did appear.

They declared 'last mag' one after the other until nothing but staff blasts were being fired out of the building. Shortly afterward, even those stopped.

The men looked at each other as they ducked behind cover. They had pulled out their projectile sidearms.

"So, Alamo anyone?" asked Sergeant Jackson. They all chuckled, but knew this was it. Their pistols just didn't have the force to stop the enemy who had been reinforced with at least another hundred machines which had now advanced to within spitting distance. Their Zats had proved all but useless against the armored monsters.

Just before the men raised themselves to fire the last of their ammunition a voice came over the radio.

"Major Tanner, please respond." The voice was female and distinctly familiar. The Major pushed the transmit button on his radio.

"Colonel Carter, thank god, is that you?" He asked.

"Roger that, Major. We were in the neighborhood. The _Hammond_ is in orbit of the planet. What is your situation?" She asked.

"Colonel, beam up all life signs in the city now!" He yelled into the radio. In an instant all twelve soldiers were enveloped in bright light and reappeared aboard the _George Hammond_.

Immediately the soldiers turned towards their prisoners and raised their guns. The _Hammond_'s bridge Marines did likewise. The small crowd looked around in bewilderment at the turn of events. They had assumed they were about to be rescued, only to have those hopes dashed.

"Major?" Colonel Carter asked. "Friends of yours?" Major Tanner shook his head.

"No ma'am. Requesting permission to put them in your brig."

"Permission granted. Marines." Colonel Carter nodded her head and the Marines on the bridge moved to help carry the prisoners to their cells.

Before the Marines had even begun to move Sergeant Phelps was already back down attending to Sergeant Taylor.

Colonel Carter saw the wounded man on the stretcher and pressed a communications button on her chair. "Medical team to the Bridge!"

Within minutes the bridge became filled with armored Special Forces soldiers and medical personnel. They picked up the young Brit and put him on the stretcher. As they were picking him up the bandage on his leg suddenly became dark red.

"Damn it! The clamp came loose. He's bleeding again!" shouted Sergeant Phelps. He removed the bandage and immediately blood spewed out like a fountain and covered those present.

"Get me two bags of O- blood now!" he yelled. An orderly began hooking up a bag of blood to Sergeant Taylor's IV line. Phelps' hand was deep in the man's leg wound as he tried to clamp the artery.

His face contorted in concern and anger as he felt around the bloody mess. "I can't find the artery. It's retracted and I can't clamp it." The large party of people began to move toward the door and soon left the bridge for Sick Bay.

Major Tanner's team was left standing in the bridge, covered in blood, plaster, and dust as their dying comrade was wheeled out.

Colonel Carter turned to the Major and asked, "What the hell happened down there?" she asked.

Before she could get an answer her Weapons Officer announced, "Colonel, over a dozen ships just appeared five thousand kilometers away and closing rapidly."

Carter rapidly returned to her Command Chair and asked, "Where did they come from?"

The Weapons Officer shook his head. "I don't know. They appeared in empty space and I didn't detect a Hyperspace window. There was a burst of energy and they were just there."

"Have they shown any hostile intent?" she asked. He shook his head.

"No, but I'm detecting a lot of radio traffic. I think they're trying to hail us."

"With radio waves?" Carter asked. The Weapons Officer looked towards her and shrugged. It was unusual for space-faring civilizations to use radio waves as subspace communication was relatively simple once you mastered hyperdrive technology.

Colonel Carter shrugged and ordered, "Put it on speaker." Static began coming through the overhead speakers before it cleared into a male voice.

"-fy yourselves or you will be destroyed. I repeat, identify yourselves immediately."

"This is Colonel Samantha Carter of the Tau'ri ship _George Hammond. _We are recovering some of our people. Identify yourselves." she responded.

"Who we are is not important. What is important is what you are doing here?" he asked in a rather rude way.

Colonel Carter looked around at her crew and replied, "Like I said, we were searching for a number of our people and allies when we discovered the state of the planet below. Our people began to attempt to discover what had happened when they were attacked."

"Yes, we we have forces deployed on the planet below. You captured several of them. Release them immediately or we will destroy you." The man was beginning to sound more belligerent the longer the conversation went on.

"I'm afraid I can't do that. We are attempting to find out what happened to the people of the world below."

"I'll save you some time. We did it. Release the prisoners. Now." the voice ordered, all trace of civility gone.

"I can't do that." Colonel Carter said, becoming angry. These people had massacred several thousand people and now expected them to bow to their commands.

With the Colonel's answer came a warning from the Weapons Officer. "Colonel Carter, enemy ships are moving to surround us. They're launching fighters!"

"Have they raised shields?" she asked. Major Keen shook his head.

"No ma'am. I'm not detecting any either." he said back as he managed the _Hammond'_s weapons. Colonel Carter was once again surprised, but she shook it off quickly. She had a ship to command.

"Raise the shields, arm all railguns and Asgard Beams, and scramble the 302's." she ordered. Earth had another enemy.

_Okay guys review and tell me what you think. Once again I'd like to thank Hobobillybob for beta-reading for me. I really had difficulty completing this chapter and he helped iron it out. Also, if any of you were wondering about the limits on the Mini-staff weapons, miniturization made them less efficient. They're also Earth-made copies so the power source isn't as long-lasting due to the fact they lack the naquadah recources of the Jaffa Nation. _


	7. Chapter 7

Earth Colony 'Victoria'

5 hours before Major Tanner's team launched their search-and-rescue mission

The quiet dawn of Victoria was interrupted by the loud wake-up call standard on Colonial settlements. Throughout the compound tired civilians and soldiers arose and began preparing for the day's activities. Among them was the garrison commander Captain Leo Young.

The young Captain walked slowly and groggily to his personal shower, something afforded to few on the planet. Rank did have its privileges. After a cold shower Captain Young shaved and donned his uniform, armor, and sidearm.

After exiting his room he watched people walking through the crowded concrete halls of the Primary Colony Control Building while he considered going to the mess hall. **Eventually he decided that whatever the Mess was serving wasn't worth battling the breakfast crowd and headed to the Control room instead**

The men and women inside rose to attention and saluted.

"At ease. What have I missed?" He asked as he looked at the holographic display in the center of the room. Everyone returned to their duties and another uniformed man walked up and handed him a computer tablet.

"Good morning Lieutenant." He said to his second-in-command, Lieutenant Andre Martin as he began scrolling through the night report.

"Good morning to you too, sir." He replied back in french-accented English. Motioning to the tablet, he continued. "At 2350 hours we had a motion sensor on the security perimeter report movement but it turned out one of the settlers was drunk and lost. At 0210 hours a crate of emergency transponders was stolen, and at 0545 a woman was brought into the infirmary after having a heart attack."

"Was the woman sent back to Earth?" he asked. Lieutenant Martin nodded his head.

"Yes, sir. Dr. Hames said he didn't think the infirmary here had the proper equipment. Again." Said the French officer, annoyance clear in his voice.

Captain Young gave an annoyed sigh in kind. "I swear that man complains about equipment at every opportunity. If I listened to him all the time I'd be sending people back to Earth for paper cuts. I really miss Dr. Anniston. Now she had skill."

Before the Lieutenant could respond the motion sensor system began squealing. One of the soldiers responsible for operating the security system spoke up as well. "Captain Young, something just tripped two motion sensors on the Northwest side of the perimeter."

Young and Martin walked over to look over the operator's shoulders. Sure enough two red lights had appeared in a string of green lights that lined the perimeter fence. Young looked to another operator.

"Check the thermal cameras and contact the guards at the towers closest to the tripped sensors." The woman he spoke to nodded her head and began looking through the thermal cameras. Lieutenant Martin walked over to the wall-mounted phone and called a guard tower. After a moment he handed the phone over to Captain Young.

"This is Young, go."

"Captain Young, this is Sergeant Stevens. My snipers aren't picking up anything on their night vision... wait what? Captain, wait one." Said the Sergeant as someone else in the guard tower got his attention. For a long, tense moment Young waited for the sergeant's voice to return.

Finally it did. "Captain, we may have a problem. Request operators check thermal camera Thirty-what is that? Oh my god, move move move MOVE! Get out of the tower!" he shouted. A muffle explosion was heard and the phone went dead. Vibrations resounded throughout the settlement.

"What the hell was that?" Young yelled as the emergency klaxons blared. He hung up the phone and ran to the PA system.

"All military personnel report to your combat positions, all civilians report to bunkers. This is not a drill, I repeat this not a drill!" The entire control room had come alive. Within minutes the Rapid Reaction Team had reached the Control Room and were waiting for orders.

Captain young chambered a round in his sidearm and walked towards the door. "RRT, with me. We're going to Tower Seven. Lieutenant Martin you're in charge here. I want you to relay instructions between me and the Security Detail. Have them hold position until I say otherwise. I'm on channel Two."

The Captain walked through the heavy blast doors and down the hall to the nearest exit. The Rapid Reaction Team followed, switching their radios to his channel.

As the soldiers stepped out into the light of dawn, they squinted before heading off towards a pillar of smoke. They sprinted through the alleys of steel and concrete buildings and came out into the open area cut around the settlement's outskirts to allow good visibility. They looked down the double chain link fence towards the smoking heap of concrete, steel rebar, and fire. They approached quickly, some men taking up defensive positions while most, including the medics, began sifting through rubble as they searched for their friends.

After several minutes of digging a hand was unearthed from under a large piece of concrete. A soldier with a red and white cross on his arm felt for a pulse, and began shouting.

"I've got a pulse! This one's alive!" As soon as he said that most of the search party began furiously digging at the rubble trapping the soldier. Moments later an unconscious man was pulled out and placed on a stretcher. As they began heading towards the infirmary, gunshots sounded from all across the camp.

Captain Young's radio began crackling with yelling. "What the hell's going on? Lieutenant report!" he said into his radio.

"I don't know, sir. We have motion sensors tripped all along the fence. I've lost contact with towers One and Three. Defense Teams One, Two, Four, and Five are reporting contact."

It was almost at that exact moment a panicked voice came over the radio. Captain Young recognized it as Sergeant Wells, the man in charge of Defense Team Six, the one defending the civilian bunker.

"They're in the wire! Repeat they are in the wire!" Yelled the Sergeant over the radio. Machine gun and P90 fire forced him to practically scream to be heard, emphasizing the direness of his situation.

"Reaction Team, you are to stay here and continue rescue ops. McKinney, Brown, York, on me. We're going to the bunker!" The three soldiers he had selected filed behind him and nodded. As they were leaving Young saw one of the sentries guarding the rescuers open fire at unseen targets.

Captain Young made as straight a line as was possible in the relatively tight alleys of colonial settlements. After what seemed like an eternity his force came to the entrance that led to the underground bunker built for the civilian population. It wasn't large on the surface, as that would gain unwanted attention, but underground it could protect, if filled completely, up to ten thousand people.

The steel door protecting the entrance was heavily damaged. It looked like it had been shot with large caliber weapons and then pried open. Gunfire could be heard from inside. Young held up a fist to signal his men to stop.

He moved his hand to his radio and silenced it. Motioning with his hands for him men to follow, he cautiously but quickly reached the other end of the small clearing and began covering his men as they followed suite.

Leaning around the corner, Young looked inside. He saw blood on the far walls. On the floor was a rather shiny robot. Bullet holes were evident in the rear of its head.

"What the hell?" he whispered. Slowly, he entered, borrowed P90 at the ready. Scanning the room he saw no one else inside. He moved to the door that opened to stairs that led into the bunker complex.

He entered the stairwell with his men following closely behind. Now screaming could be heard in addition to the gunfire erupting down below. A lot of screaming. The soldiers quickened their pace as much as the need for stealth would allow.

Soon enough they were down the stairs and looking at the door leading directly into the living quarters. The bodies of his men were on the floor, weapons in hand. There were several more robots on the floor beside them. Large gunshot wounds and claw marks covered their bodies. Corporal Brown checked their pulses and shook his head.

On the opposite side of the door they were greeted by a horrific sight. Dozens of the shiny robots were breaking down doors and killing the occupants inside their rooms. The soldiers positioned themselves to attack and waited for Captain Young's orders.

They didn't have to wait long.

"Waste the fuckers." Without hesitation they all opened fire, four machines dropped in quick succession. Changing targets they continued firing. The machines were quick to react, aiming their arm-mounted machine guns at the door. Corporal York was hit almost immediately. Blood spurted out of a neck wound as Captain Young dragged him out of the line of fire.

Before he could call for Brown, the young man was dead. A bullet had passed through his right eye. **Abandoning the body, Captain Young returned to shooting back at metallic soldiers that had killed York. **Sergeant McKinney's machine gun barked loudly in his ear as the large man fired angrily.

He managed to down another five machines himself before his gun jammed. He looked down long enough to see the impacts of bullets as they rode up the gun in a line. A line that ended with his heart. The soldier dropped instantly, a look of shock etched on his face.

"Fall back! Fall back!" yelled the Captain as he pulled Corporal Brown down beside him, firing the whole time. Less than a second later, a rocket-propelled grenade impacted where the young soldier had just been standing.

The shockwave forced Young on his back, but he regained his footing quickly and tossed a grenade through the door. A loud explosion sounded and smoke billowed out of the doorway. Young looked inside and quickly pulled his head back when a string of bullets grazed his cheek.

Inside the screaming grew quieter as the robots advanced deeper into the hall that held living quarters. Young and Corporal Brown followed behind them, doing their best to save the civilians but failing.

The entire time their pursuit was going on the Captain kept trying to contact the rest of his men. He received no answer. After roughly an hour of chasing the machines through the halls, they turned back on the two remaining soldiers.

Young and Brown sprinted as fast as they could away from the metal monstrosities. They came bursting out of the bunker entrance and blocked the door with a piece of concrete that had been blown off the building. As soon as they turned back around from doing so, they heard gunfire and sharp pains shot through their chests.

Brown fell to the ground in an instant, not moving. Young fell to his knees and looked down at his chest. Three large gaping holes were visible and blood was pouring down his protective vest. His knees gave out and he lost consciousness.

The sound of metal scraping against metal woke him soon after, the robots he and Brown had sealed inside has evidently broken out. They marched past him and the dead man beside him into a ship that resembled a shuttle. The door closed behind the last one and the ship took off.

After the sound of the shuttle's engines faded there was only silence. Young looked at the sky and noticed three particularly bright points of light. They seemed to get bigger bigger, closer and closer. Captain Young couldn't help but admit they were the most beautiful things he had ever seen.

There was a bright flash, and a moment of complete, inescapable serenity. Everything was at peace. Then the heat of the three thermonuclear bombs reached the ground, and Captain Leonard Young, veteran British soldier and war hero, ceased to be.

Moments later the Tau'ri settlement on Victoria joined him in nothingness. Less than a minute after the first flash, Victoria was no more.

_This may seem kind of random but it will contribute to the story. Again I'd like to thank Hobobillybob for beta reading for me. Review and tell me what you think. Also, Captain Young doesn't have anything to do with Colonel Young from Stargate Universe._


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: _Before I start this chapter I'd like to answer a few things that were misunderstood._

_**Trife**__; When I said Victoria was a Colonial settlement I meant it to mean Colony of Earth. It wasn't related to the Twelve Colonies of Kobol/Man. Sorry for the confusion_

**_TDK_**_; Colonel Carter is no longer part of SG-1 after she was given command of the _Hammond_. Stargate Universe or Stargate Atlantis never actually says what happened to SG-1 after that, so in this story the rest of the team stayed together._

**_Robby Cartwright_**_; This is set after the fifth season of Stargate Atlantis, Ark of Truth, and the Stargate Universe episode "Subversion". _

_And as always a big thanks to Hobobillybob for his help with this story. This story wouldn't be nearly this good without him. He helps filter my stupider ideas and adds gems of his own. Please Review and tell me what you guys think, I really do want to know what you think of it, good or bad. _

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**Armag Station, **

**Outer Cyrannus System**

The Hybrid of Cylon Baseship designation C0132 completed diagnostics on the Raider communication system and deactivated the emergency communication system. A fluctuation in local radiation levels caused the Hybrid to recheck the DRADIS system.

Sure enough eight hundred thousand thousand kilometers away six emergency beacons were broadcasting distress signals. The alert siren sounded throughout the ship and the human form Cylons manning the CIC began issuing commands into the computer.

The propulsion system was activated and the three Baseships moved towards the ships and away from the decrepit Colonial Space Station.

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The _Ajax _and the _Delphi_ appeared in what had previously been empty space in brilliant flashes of light. Everyone in the CIC of the Battlestar was silent as they stared at the DRADIS screen. Their entire plan hinged on this moment, on whether or not the Cylons detected them after the FTL jump.

The three red dots on the screen continued moving away and didn't slow. Sighs of relief sounded throughout the room.

"Thank the gods. Lieutenant Riden, dock us and tell the _Delphi_ to do likewise." The young officer nodded and proceeded to navigate the ship towards the station's airlocks. As soon as the ship was within thirty meters of Armag Station, several massive extendable airlocks quickly bridged the remaining distance.

"We have hard seal, Commander." Announced Lieutenant Riden. The Commander nodded.

"Good. Colonel Siler, order the security teams aboard and as soon as they have it secured take command of the ammunition transfer teams and begin the transfer." The Colonel saluted and headed out of the CIC to coordinate the process of ammunition transfer. All the while Commander King's eyes were glued to the DRADIS monitor and the Baseships.

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"Alright, I'll ask again. Where. Did. You. Come. From?" Asked the old man as he rubbed his bloody knuckles. Blood and spit painted the floor and it dripped from the mouth of the male prisoner. He looked up for a moment with pure hate in his eyes.

"Cameron Mitchell, Colonel, United States Air Fo-" His sentence was interrupted by a powerful fist slamming once again into his cheek, sending him flying until the restraints caught him once again. He could taste even more blood than before.

"Where!" he shouted. Another fist to the face. Anger was becoming more and more apparent on his face the longer this went on. At first he had been confident he'd be able to have this done inside of an hour and it was approaching hour three.

"Cameron Mitchell, Colonel, United States Air Force." This reply was barely above a whisper. Blood was flowing from the prisoner's face and his eyes were almost completely swollen shut.

His interrogator sighed in frustration and opened the door. "Bring it in." he ordered. A previously unseen person pushed in a cart that held something eerily familiar lying on it. A square black box with two short cables coming off the top. A shudder ran through Colonel Mitchell as he anticipated what was coming.

His torturer carefully put the ends of the cables on his extremities and stepped back to the cart. "Now, I'll ask you again and this time you're going to answer me. Where are you from?"

Mitchell tensed and once again said, "Cameron Mitchell, Colonel, United States Air Force." Without hesitation the old man flipped a switch and Colonel Mitchell lost control of his body. His body was engulfed in pain and he was helpless to stop it. He tried to breathe but couldn't.

For what seemed like an eternity he suffered. Finally the old man flipped the switch again and it stopped. His first act upon regaining control was to gasp in air which, in his opinion, was the sweetest breath he'd ever taken.

Number One just looked at him and smirked. Confidence had replaced his previous anger and he was sure his answer was only a question away.

"Where are you from?" he asked.

"C-Cam...Cameron Mitchell, Colonel, United States Air Force." He said back. His voice was weak but full of defiance. Again electricity surged through his body, taking away what control he had over his body.

The electroshock continued for more than an hour, past the point where Mitchell was coherent. Eventually a blonde woman in a red dress walked in and whispered something to his torturer. He glared at her for a moment before walking out indignantly. The woman slowly approached him and looked him in the eye. Her eyes were a beautiful shade of blue.

"Hello." She said with a smile. He peered up at her coldly. "I'm not going to hurt you." It was clear in her voice she was trying to be soothing as she reached out and touched Mitchell's cheek.

After a quiet moment, she leaned in and softly kissed him. He tensed at the unexpected action. After several seconds the woman pulled back and stared into his eyes, smiling.

"I'm Natalie. Do you think you could answer some questions for me?" She asked sweetly. Colonel Mitchell started laughing in her face. A look of confusion flooded her and she tilted her head. "Why are you laughing?"

"I didn't know there _was _a space version of 'Good Cop/Bad Cop'." he replied. His hysterical laughter filled the room. Even when the woman walked from the room Mitchell continued to laugh, unable to stop himself.

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The infirmary of the _George Hammond_ was quiet except for the incessant beeping of the various monitors that filled the large room. On of the beds was occupied by an unconscious man who was surrounded by over a dozen nurses and soldiers.

The soldiers came to attention when Colonel Carter walked in and she silently waved them off. The grim-faced men turned back to their comrade.

"How is he?" The blonde Colonel asked them. Major Tanner looked back at her sadly.

"Bad. They couldn't save his leg. Dr. Crest said he was stable for now but he wants to send him back to Earth for the rest of his recovery." His voice was low. Deep bags hung from his eyes and those of the rest of his Team.

"Unfortunately he's going to have to wait. We've lost contact with our colony on Victoria. Their last transmission said they were under attack and we're the closest ship. We've been ordered to investigate. We'll be there in two hours."

"Anything we can do to help?" He asked. His men needed something to concentrate on. There was nothing for them to do on the _Hammond _except standing by Taylor's bedside and preventing the nurses from helping him.

Fortunately for them Colonel Carter nodded. "I was actually going to ask you for your help. There was an accident and half the Marine compliment is sick in their quarters. If we have to send a team ground-side I'd like your men to be on it."

"Yes ma'am. We'll be ready."

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**I know its short but this one was holding me up so I had to move on. Hopefully the next chapter will be up soon, but I'm back at school so no promises.**


	9. Chapter 9

_Please Review. If you're wondering whether or not I own this story and the characters it contains, check out the standing disclaimer in my Profile. Once again thanks to Hobobillybob for beta-ing this and all my stories.

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"The longer we wait, the worse it's going to be. We have a choice, we can either tell the public now when Earth is safe or we can put it off until the next Hive Ship lands in our attic." The faces in the room were grim as they all considered what would likely be the single most important decision in human history.

"Mr. Woolsey, are you finished?" Asked a woman sitting in front of the flag of the United Kingdom. When he nodded, she continued. "Very well then. Now that everyone has made their case, I believe it is time we voted." The other delegates nodded to the woman and Woolsey returned to his seat.

The first to speak was the Russian Delegate. "The Russian government has decided to support Disclosure." He scribbled on a notepad and looked to the woman beside him.

Her voice was full of authority and flavored with the slightest hint of a French accent. "France also supports this proposition."

The approvals continued through the American, German, Australian, Canadian, Indian, and British Delegates, all gaining approval. When the time came for the Chinese Delegate to speak everyone held their breath.

"The People's Republic of China," The Chinese Delegate paused intentionally, she was renowned for her taste in the dramatic, "supports Disclosure." Those gathered began to breath again. Three years of hard work, back room deals, trades, and negotiations had finally paid off.

The Delegates stood and exited the meeting room. They politely nodded and shook each others hands while they exited. Richard Woolsey immediately made his way to his room down the hall. When he closed and locked the door behind him he picked up a red phone and hit his Speed dial.

After two rings the voice of the American President was heard on the other side. His voice was tense and eager. "Woolsey, tell me you have good news." He said hopefully.

"Yes, sir. Mr. President, the International Oversight Advisory has approved our proposition. Disclosure has been approved." In the background of the other side Woolsey could hear cheering. He smiled slightly and waited for the President to speak.

In the Oval Office, far away from the IOA Council, the President and his advisors were celebrating. Finally the entire planet would be devoted to defending itself and the Galaxy. With a quick goodbye President Hayes ended his conversation with Woolsey.

Immediately, he grabbed a champagne glass and raised a toast. "To the men and women who've died to make this moment happen." Everyone settled down and raised their glasses. Before the President had even taken a sip, his phone rang again.

While the rest of the men and women present were still talking, Hayes quietly excused himself into the next room. He picked up the red phone that read 'HWC'.

Seconds after picking up the phone, the still-full champagne glass fell from the President's hand and shattered on the floor.

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There is an Ancient proverb that says '_There is only one truth; the Universe in Infinite._" While there are deeper meanings, this is commonly understood to mean the Universe is big. Really, _really_ big. As a result, almost everything physically possible can be seen at some place or another. Binary black holes, living interstellar gas clouds, and beings made out of pure energy. Then, there are things that, though common, are much more tragic. Among these monuments to suffering are Dead worlds. Unlike their lifeless brethren, Dead worlds once bore the fruit of the stars; life itself. These planets and moons were blessed with something so few things ever get to experience. But, through cruel twists of fate, they have been stripped of what made them unique and are left to float for all eternity to mourn their loss.

In the Milky Way galaxy, there are many Dead Worlds. Some lack life because their own people became determined to destroy themselves under the guise of security. Others have been reduced to ashes by oppressors, such as the Goa'uld or the Ori. There are also planets destroyed by mere bad luck; a stray comet, rogue asteroid, or some other horrible cosmological disaster.

There is one world that is none of the above. There is one world that was the victim of the creation of others. There is one world that was killed by the children of humanity. That world was the destination of the U.S.S. _George Hammond._

On the bridge of that ship, Colonel Samantha Carter finished her mental checklist of things to do before her ship dropped out of Hyperspace. Her crew were at their battle stations, the F302 squadron was fueled, armed, and ready to launch, and the Asgard Beams were charged. With a nod her Navigator brought the ship out of Hyperspace.

The Earth colony Victoria stood out against the blackness of space. Its vast southern ocean filled the view screen of the battlecruiser as the Tactical Officer scanned the planet. Several seconds the console beeped and Captain Fredrick's face paled. He immediately scanned the planet again. The console once again beeped with the same response.

Colonel Carter noticed his distress and tapped him on the shoulder while she leaned over to look at the readings.

"Colonel Carter, there are zero life signs on the planet." His voice was strained. Carter turned her gaze to his face in confusion.

"What? Are you sure?" He nodded silently.

"I scanned the entire planet three times. I'm detecting nothing, not even the Stargate." Carter sat back in her seat and sighed. She was afraid of this, but she needed to confirm it.

"Scan for radiation and try to raise Victoria Control on subspace and radio." Captain Fredrick nodded and did as ordered. On his screen a map of the surface popped into view. Red and orange covered large areas of the island where the colony resided.

"Detecting massive amounts of radiation consistent with Stargate detonation. Sensors indicate time since detonation to be roughly two to three hours." Carter sighed. If the Stargate was destroyed then the entire colony was gone. The Stargate exploding would have destroyed every building, person, tree, and blade of grass within fifty miles and made the entire planet uninhabitable.

"Alright, cancel landing parties. Begin full scan of the system and keep shields and weapons ready. I'm going to make a call." The Captain nodded and Sam left the Bridge to head to the separate communications room.

When she arrived it was almost deserted. The only people inside were the Communications technician and a pair of crew members attempting to fix something at the secondary subspace terminal.

Without looking at them she began going through the list of contacts they kept on hand for convenient use. As she had helped design most of the ship and its systems Sam didn't need the tech's help with the subspace communications.

Seconds later the connection was made and she was staring into the face of the Commander of Homeworld Command; Lieutenant General Jack O'Neill.

"Colonel, judging by the look on your face I'm guessing that Victoria's transmitter wasn't just on the fritz?" Colonel Carter gave a sad smile and shook her head.

"No, sir. Victoria Colony has been completely destroyed. We're reading no life signs and sensors indicate the Stargate exploded." Jack looked down at something on his desk for a moment before returning his eyes to the screen.

"Damn it. Do you have any idea who did it? Lucian Alliance?" He asked. Sam shook her head.

"No, we don't know who did it. Any evidence on the planet would have been vaporized by the explosion. I have my crew scanning the system; hopefully we'll find something. Though doesn't this sound a bit out of character for the Lucian Alliance? They attacked Icarus, yes, but they should know we won't let this go unpunished." Jack's eyes glazed over for a moment and he nodded.

"Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. I don't know, but I'll contact our agents and the Tok'ra who've infiltrated the Alliance and see if they've heard anything. Continue with your investigation, Colonel. I've got to make a call. O'Neill out."

The screen went black and Sam smiled at Jack's mimicry of her earlier words.

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Homeworld Command was a mess of activity as everyone attempted to confirm the status of their remaining colonies and bases. Air Force, Marine, Army, and Navy personnel from half a dozen countries ran wildly about dozens of consoles and terminals in various rooms under the Pentagon while they traded data and orders.

In the Information Room General O'Neill sat behind a table staring at the distraught faces of half a dozen IOA heads of state. The American President and the Chinese, British, French, Russian, and Indian Prime Ministers.

"Gentlemen, I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news but I've just received word from the _George Hammond_ that our colony on Victoria has been destroyed." The faces on the wall screens opened in shock as a number of gasps were heard.

Almost immediately the faces of the British and French Prime Ministers turned to anger. The British PM was the first to speak.

"How did this happen? Are not our colonies protected by Asgard shields and satellite-mounted Beam Weapons?" The other ministers nodded in agreement, but O'Neill shook his head.

"Victoria's defenses were going to be shipped by the _Thor _during its shakedown cruise but it was delayed when the ship's power conduits overloaded and fried the shield emitters. The repairs aren't due to be completed for another week." This explanation didn't calm them down, in fact it seemed to make them angrier.

"We have other ships General! And why couldn't any of it be sent by Stargate?" The French Minister demanded. O'Neill forced himself to remain calm.

"The Asgard Defense Network is too big to be shipped through he Gate unless its broken down and reassembled on the other side which, by the way, takes twice as long as it would to wait for the _Thor _to be repaired." Jack paused and looked each official in the eye, with the exception of the President who was maintaining his calm.

"As for your other question; we only have two other ships in the galaxy. One of which, the _Hammond_, was immediately dispatched to Victoria and the other, the _Odyssey_, was on the other side of the galaxy in orbit of one of the Protected Planets trying to discourage a Lucian Alliance battle group. The rest are in Pegasus." The French minister scoffed.

"Once again you insist on protecting other human worlds at the expense of our own. As I've said time and time again we cannot afford to-" The Minister's angry rant was cut off by an increasingly annoyed O'Neill.

"We cannot afford to let the Lucian Alliance to run over every human planet in the galaxy. Not only does it make us look weak, but the Asgard entrusted us this task. We can't protect every planet but we can protect those in the Protected Planets Treaty and a few more. Not only that, but as long as I am in command of our Fleet, I will never allow the Lucian Alliance to become the new Goa'uld and I know for a fact the Tok'ra and the Jaffa Confederation fully supports me; unlike the IOA which they show an open distaste for."

Jack sat back in his seat and smirked. The French Minister glared at him but said nothing more. Instead the Russian Prime Minister spoke in a sad voice.

"General, how many people were on Victoria?" The French and British PM's did a double take and glanced down when they realized what they had done. The smirk disappeared at once from Jack's face and he straightened.

"Two hundred and eleven humans and two Jaffa. I've sent word to the Jaffa Confederation about theirs already. They promised a trio of Al'kesh and a Ha'tak to assist in the investigation." The Russian Minister nodded his head gratefully.

President Hayes finally began to speak when O'Neill had finished giving his report. "Thank you General. I'm sure you'll do whatever you can to find those responsible. If it does turn out to be the Lucian Alliance again we won't hesitate to declare open war on them. Make sure they hear this."

General O'Neill nodded in acknowledgment. He was already thinking of who should be the one to 'accidentally' let the Lucian Alliance get that particular piece of intel; it might give Earth some breathing room. Before he could make his decision, Hayes spoke again.

"There is one other matter that we need to discuss. The plan for Phased Disclosure has been approved. We will make the announcement on December 1st. That is how long you have to find out who did this. Four months, General. We don't want our people's first impressions to be tainted by the thought that we can't protect our own people." General O'Neill sensed the meeting was over and rose to his feet.

"Yes sir, I've already got all my people working on it." Hayes gave a small smile and looked to to what must have been screens displaying the other world leaders.

"Good. Well, does anyone have anything else of importance to say?" He asked. When everyone remained silent he finished. "Okay, well, we'll let you get back to work, General."

Before Jack could reply the screens went black. Without a moment's hesitation he collapsed back into his chair with a loud sigh.

His job just got a lot more complicated.

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**Okay, there it is. Please Review and tell me what you think.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Please review and tell me what you think. This story did not want to be created and I had to overcome a lot of writer's block to make it so please tell me if it was worth the wait.**

Picon

Sixteen days after Cylon Holocaust

"Go! Go! Get out! Go!" Shouted Sergeant Alex Hollis as his squad stormed out of the Raptor into the large courtyard of the Cylon concentration camp. The seven men and two women jumped off the craft's short wings and sprinted to one of the short concrete buildings that surrounded the square.

Their Raptor and the other four that filled the courtyard fired their engines when their Marines had disembarked and lifted into the sky. Before they had even left the next flight was already coming in for a landing. The Marines were forced to sprint to get out of the way of their own ships as well as the Centurion's gunfire.

Sergeant Hollis' squad was thrown to the ground before they had reached cover by a large explosion. Hollis was the first to recover and began pushing and shoving his soldiers to move. When he came to the still form of Corporal Linda Collins and saw the pool of blood under her he felt her neck.

There was no pulse and the Sergeant was forced to leave the lifeless body when a string of bullets impacted mere feet away from him. He bolted the rest of the way to his squad which had taken up position on both sides of a steel door that lead into their target building.

He impacted the wall and took up his place in the breaching position. When he was ready he nodded to Private Jarvis who wordlessly placed a small charge of G-4. He removed the detonator from his vest and everyone braced themselves.

With a small click of the switch, the G-4 exploded and blasted the steel door off its hinges. Jarvis kicked the door the rest of the way down and retreated to allow the rest of the squad through.

Five of the six remaining Marines stormed through with their rifles at the ready. The room was a large one that seemed to run the length of the front of the building. Half a dozen doors led further inside and a scattering of small chairs sat unused.

The Colonials moved silently to the first door where Private Kripp kicked it in roughly. He charged in with the rest of the squad in tow. Jarvis took up a position at the door and watched for any Cylons.

This room was another hallway. A dozen wooden doors split on the two opposing walls and one at the end made up nearly the entire space. Once again the Marines breached the first door without waiting for orders as their training guided their movements. They knew exactly what they needed to do. Sergeant Hollis watched them proudly as he followed in sync.

The newest breached door, however, wasn't a hallway and it wasn't empty. A shirtless man was held up only by restraints that held his arms up. His legs were bent with his knees almost but not quite touching the floor. He looked up at them slowly. The Colonials gasped at the sight; his face was covered in cuts, bruises, and blood. Both his eyes were nearly swollen over and his skin was pale.

"Williams, cut him down. Everyone else with me." Ordered Sergeant Hollis as the woman pulled out her knife and cut the ties that held him to the ceiling. She was forced to catch him when he collapsed into her arms.

"Hey, its okay. Its alright, we're gonna get you out of here." She said in as soothing a voice as she could manage. In the background she heard the rest of her squad kicking in the next door. When the man didn't respond she shook him slightly.

"Hey, can you tell me your name?" She asked as she began looking him over for other injuries. When she pressed against his ribs his breath hitched and he tightened his grip on her.

"J-j-jackson, Vala." He gasped out and began looking around in almost a panic.

"Jackson? Okay Jackson, you're safe now." She assured him as she began to carry to the wall. When she laid him against the concrete he shook his head weakly.

"No, no, my team." Before Kendra could respond Sergeant Hollis' voice was in her earpiece.

"Private, get that man squared away move on. Three other cells in this hall are occupied and I need you to start hauling them out to the Evac birds. Move!"

"Yes sir." She responded. When she looked back at the man he seemed to have overheard the conversation. Without a word he waved for her to move on. She stared at him for a moment before moving to the door. She could hear Private Jarvis kicking in more doors while she looked for any signs of the Cylons.

When she saw none, she moved down the hall. The next person was three cells down on the same side. She was a woman with long black hair and a thin frame. She was still being held aloft by the black rope restraints.

Private Williams took out her knife again and cut her restraints as well. When she caught the woman she immediately began carrying her to the first man's cell. She was light and it was a quick trip but was made complicated when Kendra realized she was unconscious.

When she dragged the woman in and laid her beside the man his face lit up as much as his injuries allowed. He moved over her and began checking for wounds. Other than cuts and bruises to her face she appeared intact. Fortunately her shirt and pants remained on.

"Vala? Vala, come on can you hear me?" The man began shaking her and she stirred slightly but Kendra was out the door before she could see more. Her rifle was still up when she entered the door at the far end of the hall. It was the only one with a steel door and when she saw who was inside she could see why.

He was easily six and a half feet and had dark skin with a strange gold symbol on his forehead. His bulging muscles were made all the more pronounced by his lack of shirt and the restraints. Interestingly these were metal which made this more complicated. Kendra was going to need his help with this one.

"Can you hear me?" She asked him. When he didn't respond she slapped his face lightly which made him jump at her. Only his restraints held him in place but that didn't stop his forehead from hitting her chin. Kendra stumbled back before catching herself.

"Whoa there. Sorry, I just need your help. I'm going to get you out of here but to do that I'm going to need to shoot the chains, okay?" she asked him while she slowly approached. He only glared at her silently. His stony expression was unnerving.

With no other sign, Kendra just shrugged and raised her gun to the thin steel chain just above his wrists. The twin gunshots echoed in the small room and sounded like thunder crashing. The dark man collapsed to the ground. When she moved to pick him up he grabbed her legs out from under her and, in an impressive show of speed and strength, tore her rifle from its strap, threw it across the room and grabbed her throat with one arm. He pinned her arms to her body with his other arm. His grip tightened and Kendra's vision started to fade while she struggled, unsuccessfully, for air.

For a few seconds he looked into her eyes before the man from the first room hobbled in and put a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, T. Let her go." The two men shared a look for a split second before Kendra felt the pressure on her windpipe lessen and disappear.

The first man handed her back her gun which she grabbed roughly. She looked at the two for a moment before the first man offered his hand.

"Colonel Cameron Mitchell. Sorry about that, we're just a bit jumpy as of late. However, we need your help. There's another guy we need to find. His name's Daniel Jackson." Kendra looked them over before silently moving out to search the rest of the cells. When she found the other occupied one she motioned for them to approach.

"This the guy you're looking for?" She asked them as she stepped inside to cut the man down. He was also shirtless for some reason, something that seemed to be a theme here. The two men looked relieved when they saw the man's face and Mitchell moved inside to help her.

"Yep, that's him. Teal'c, Vala's in the first room on the right. She's unconscious so I need you to carry her out." The large man bowed silently and moved to the first cell while Mitchell caught the new prisoner.

"Hey, Jackson, buddy. I need you to wake up so I don't have to haul your ass all the way out there on my own, okay?" The words were said with a hint of humor and a smile crossed Colonel Mitchell's face when he was greeted with mumbled words.

"There he is. Wakey, wakey, sleeping beauty. Time to go to the ball. Get your fat ass up and moving!" The last sentence came with a firm slap that seemed to bring the man back to reality.

Just like the large man, the slapping did not end well. Daniel suddenly grabbed Mitchell's arm and kicked out his legs. When Mitchell dropped to the floor Daniel pulled his arms back and pinned his face against the concrete.

"Glad to see you can still kick ass, but can you let me go? We kind of need to go." Realization dawned on Jackson's face and he released Mitchell's arms and stumbled back.

"Mitchell?" he asked in a hoarse voice. Cam pushed himself up and took him by the arm.

"Yeah, its me. Vala and Teal'c are safe and we need to go now." Daniel just nodded and followed him out the door. Williams rechecked the rooms before following them out the door. She saw them just exiting the outer door and heading into the compound before she stopped them.

"Okay, I need to go back and help my squad. What I want you to do is wait for the next Raptor that touches down, wait for it to lose its Marines, then jump inside before it has a chance to take off. Got it?" Asked them. They all nodded their heads and almost immediately began running towards one of the Colonial ships with the unconcious woman slung over Teal'c's shoulder. Williams watched them toss each other in before the door of the ship closed and its engines ignited.

With a roar of defiance against gravity, the heavy Raptor raised itself up and flew off into the distance. Williams resecured her helmet and returned to her squad to help the evacuation, never having known she had just rescued the four people who could save the last Colonial survivors.

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**Once again, please review. I also hope this chapter satisfied those of you who were wondering how I intended to get the Colonials and SG-1 to meet.**


	11. Chapter 11

_Disclaimer: I own nothing and make no money from this._

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The Serpent's Lair Tavern was one of the lowest class bars on the trade planet Lazarus. The darkened inside was filled with dozens of drunken and half drunken patrons, as well as a sober few who used it for less than reputable deals.

In the back, against the wall, a well built man in a loose cloak sat watching the room. He sat in silence, occasionally sipping at the mug he had ordered to avoid arousing suspicion. His eyes drifted to the double doors when two large men with automatic weapons entered and held the door open for another three.

Two of the men who entered second were also large, well-built, and clearly bodyguards. The other was slightly trimmer but still muscular. A small bulge on his hip revealed a handgun to the trained eye. They scanned the room before moving to an empty table.

In a low voice, the lone man whispered to himself, "Snake Doc, I have visual on Dakota." A few of the patrons near the man looked at him suspiciously but a series of crazy murmurs seemed to convince them it was just an old drunk's ramblings.

"Roger Cool Breeze. We're in position. Execute at your discretion, over." This voice was deeper, and audible only to the man called Cool Breeze. Slowly he stood and began stumbling towards the now seated men. They glanced at him but quickly dismissed him just as the other patrons had. Just another old man who'd spent a few too many years drinking a few too many mugs of bad booze.

They were therefore taken by surprise when, in a lightning quick motion, the man pulled a handgun seemingly from nowhere and put two bullets in each of the bodyguards' chests. He violently jerked the survivor's back against him and jammed his gun into the man's head.

"You move, you die. Understand?" Before his hostage could respond dozens of the patrons stood, some unsteadily, and aimed weapons of various types at the hostage and his captor.

In the blink of an eye, four more men burst in through the front door with rifles up. They formed a half circle around their friend and slowly started backing out. One, a large black man, was the first to speak.

"We don't want any trouble. Our business is with him," he said, nodding in the direction of the hostage, "Not any of of you." When nobody decided to shoot them, they took the opportunity and retreated out the door.

"Betty Blue, Whiplash, take point. Dirt Diver, we'll take rear guard. Cool Breeze, hogtie him." He said to each of the men in turn, and handed a pair of plastic cuffs to Cool Breeze. As soon as the cuffs were on, the men began almost sprinting.

The townsfolk, relatively used to armed men in their streets, ducked into their shops or homes and hid. The group made their way through the streets of the town, staying near the storefronts for cover. Their eyes darted everywhere as they watched for weapons.

Their pace halted when Whiplash, who was in the lead, held up his fist and motioned them to get to cover. Cool Breeze roughly shoved their captive to the ground behind a pile of large sacks and pulled out a shortened carbine. They all looked towards Whiplash who had dived behind a metal trash bin.

He pointed up the street to a group of black clad men advancing towards them. Snake Doctor, crouched behind a barrel, nodded and opened fire. The entire team began firing at once and the Lucian soldiers began dropping.

Before the Lucian soldiers could even return fire the street was already filled with their bodies. The Earth soldiers took aimed, deliberate shots at the now entrenched enemy soldiers. Even after sustaining heavy casualties, the Lucian soldiers still outnumbered them significantly.

"Snake Doc we gotta move!" shouted Dirt Diver. When the dirt between the two soldiers filled with bullets Snake Doctor nodded. Dirt Diver tapped Betty Blue on the shoulder and pointed to a nearby alleyway. Betty Blue nodded and they bolted from their cover. Puffs of dirt chased their heels until they disappeared between two large buildings.

The Lucians, taking this as a sign they were retreating, began advancing. They rolled between cover. The Earth soldiers could do nothing to stop them. Not even when they were able to hit one of the Lucians, they advanced regardless.

When barely fifteen yards remained between them, the black-clad men suddenly turned around in a panic. Behind them, Dirt Diver and Betty Blue were pouring rifle fire into their exposed backsides.

In seconds it was over. Lucian Alliance soldiers were sprawled everywhere with pools of blood surrounding them. Slowly the Tau'ri soldiers stood and secured the area. They kicked weapons from bodies and made sure each was dead.

Snake Doctor turned to Cool Breeze and motioned towards the prisoner. Cool Breeze nodded and grabbed the man's restraints. He hauled him back on his feet and the party resumed moving.

They quickly spotted two more Lucian patrols, but avoided them by using backstreets. When their prisoner attempted to gain their attention, Dirt Diver pulled a Zat from his robes and silenced him. When the men passed they continued on.

Soon they were able to make out the image of the Stargate. They formed a loosed perimeter while Cool Breeze dialed. As soon as the Gate activated, the treeline behind them exploded with gunfire.

Betty Blue emptied his magazine before helping Cool Breeze carry their prisoner through. Whiplash was next. He fired a burst at the largest concentration of muzzle flashes and leaped through the Gate.

When Dirt Diver attempted to sprint from the tree he was covering behind, a round landed in his calf. He stumbled, fell, and rolled behind a log. Snake Doctor pulled out a grenade, pulled the pin, and tossed it behind him.

The explosion shook the ground and threw up a blinding cloud of dust. Snake Doctor dived from his own cover, pulled Dirt Diver up, and helped him into the event horizon.

"Wake up." Grad Hillnet awoke slowly. His could see he was in a dark room, until a bright light was yanked into his face. He recoiled and noticed he was tied to a chair.

The light was pulled away and, once the spots disappeared, he was able to make out the rough outline of five men.

"What do you want? Is it money? I can get you as much as you want." The figures scoffed. One stepped forward and put his face next to Grad's.

"We don't want your money. We just need information." A look of realization, and then fear, washed over the captive's face. He knew that voice.

"Jonas? Is that you?" The large figure pulled his face away and nodded. "Oh, thank god. You had me worried there for a second. How have you been, my friend?" He laughed. Jonas violently shoved his chair against a wall behind him.

"You dare call me friend after trying to get my team killed on Rileya?" The amusement drained from Grad's face.

"Please,please, it was just business." Jonas just shook his head.

"That's not why we're here. We need information about a recent attack. On a Tau'ri colony." Grad eyed him suspiciously. When Jonas signaled he was serious, his eyes bulged.

"You're not joking. Well you have to know the Lucian Alliance didn't do it. They may have raided one of your research outposts but they won't send ships within a hundred light years of any of your colonized worlds." This seemed to trouble the Earth soldiers. They all moved into an adjacent room, leaving Grad to his thoughts, and to wonder if they were going to kill him or not.

In the next room the soldiers gathered in a circle and looked at each other. Dirt Diver closed the door and turned to them.

"You think he's on the level?" Jonas nodded assuredly. The rest of the team didn't look nearly as assured.

"He's scared. He knows I'm looking for an excuse to kill him, he's not going to take a chance I catch him lying." The room was silent as the soldiers looked at each other. Dirt Diver was the one to break the silence.

"So if the Lucian Alliance didn't destroy Victoria, who did?"

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_Sorry about the delay. Life got awesome for a while(still is) and writing kinda took a back seat. Please review and tell me what you think. As always, special thanks to Hobobillybob for all his beta help. _


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